


Modern Saiyan

by Elbordonyembellisher77



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fun with the Timeline, Past Bulma Briefs/Yamcha, Relationship(s), Saiyan Culture, Sexual Content, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2020-11-02 12:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 96,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elbordonyembellisher77/pseuds/Elbordonyembellisher77
Summary: When Vegeta came back after learning Goku was still lost to them in space, that was when the fun officially began for the residents at Capsule Corporation. He trained so hard most days, it was a wonder he could even function normally outside of the Gravity Room. When he wasn’t pushing himself to impossible limits in the GR, he was demanding, impatient, and all-around owning every bit of his namesake. He was a Prince, all right. And you can bet Bulma was going to test this Saiyan royal with every ounce of impudence and rebelliousness she could manage to get away with. Glimpse back into the past, and follow our favorite cast on this wild new take on the present timeline!This fic will explore life on Earth and then eventually venture to Vegetasei, where my primary focus for writing this will be. (If you like language-building fanfics, this is right up your alley.) -Regular updates on Sundays-





	1. Stubborn Princes, Pizza, and Vorslags

**Author's Note:**

> So this story is gonna be wild. Hold on tight lol. I've started out working through V and B's beginnings, then it will pick up pace in a newer direction that I didn't think of until I looked at a cool image on Pinterest of Bulma as.....well I'm not gonna spoil everything before you even start reading! I've spent a lot of time fleshing this out so tell me how you feel about things in the comments and I'll try to respond within a day. Enjoy! 
> 
> You all know I don't own these guys. Just borrowing DBZ for fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have officially had this chapter edited by Bundyshoes now! Go check out her work if you want more great fic ideas!
> 
> **If you're going back to revisit chapters, give this one a once-over ;)

“Woman! What did you do with my boots?!”  
  
Vegeta had marched himself down to Bulma's lab after discovering his boots weren't with his armor that afternoon.

Bulma poked her head out from underneath her latest project. She was servicing her hovercar, as it needed its monthly tune-up. His feet were inches from her face. Vegeta looked down on her with a menacing glare, veins visible at his temple. She scooted herself back under the hovercar, huffing as she went.

“They’re under your feet, you idiot!”  
  
“No! My other pair!”

She scoffed and tested a bolt with her wrench.  
  
“You mean your dingy, practically destroyed pair?”

“Well-worn and ready for battle, I’m sure you meant, you rude broad. Where are they?” He began glancing around the lab for their possible whereabouts.

“Oh yeah? Rude broad, huh? Guess what- I threw them out.”

He flinched and his anger rose again sharply.

“WHAT? You take them out right now, you dim, thick-skulled harpy!”

She was out from underneath the hover vehicle in an instant. “I will NOT tolerate insults, mister prince! You want them so bad, you get them out!” she yelled. Exasperated at his words, she scowled and crossed her arms indignantly. She was not dim. She was too smart to be considered dim. She wasn’t going to take that shit lying down.

“Ach! I won’t go digging in such filth. How dare you deny me my property by throwing it in a disgusting receptacle,” he groused, practically gagging at the very suggestion.

This would have amused her if he hadn’t just been yelling in her face. Tired of the argument, she turned away from him. As she was walking out of her lab, she couldn't see how he was arched and seething, grinding his teeth. As he tried to relax, he reminded himself she didn’t know how to act around royalty and that harming her would surely bring a barrage of unfavorable repercussions from Kakarot. Whether he wanted to outright admit that as fact or not.

_Restrain yourself. She’s not inclined to being subservient. I'll just have to manage without killing her...I need her equipment.  
_

“Hn.” He took a deep breath, let it out, and crossed his arms. “Don’t throw them out again. Or I’ll be sure that what I do to you can’t be fixed by a simple wish. Make no mistake, you reckless defector, I am very much evil. Don’t push me to want you gone woman, you are usually quite competent.”

Oh wow," she scoffed, despite his obvious simmering anger. Crossing her own arms against her large chest, she cocked her hip as she turned to him, "That was almost a compliment."

He sighed, the flames of their typical afternoon feud fading into smoldering embers. “Go get my boots for me. And clean them. I’ve been distracted long enough. I need to train,” He stated simply.

She gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine. But you gotta keep those clean then,” she gestured down to his current footwear. He grunted in response, and she took that as her chance to leave the conversation and walk into the compound. This was a good time as any to pause and take a well-needed break on the living room sofa.

* * *

Yamcha exited down the hallway to find his girlfriend on the couch, reading a book.  
  
“What’s with all of the commotion, babe?”

She gave him a pointed look.

“It’s nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you. Just our lord and savior, Prince Vegeta, throwing a tantrum, right on schedule for the typical afternoon lineup.”

She flipped the next page in her novel as he came to sit down next to her.

“You put up with him too much, B. What’s on the menu for dinner, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She put down her book and pulled out her phone.

“Definitely pizza. Mom’s not home and I’m tired. Vegeta usually wants meat but didn’t specify _how_ he wanted it,” she smirked.

“Meat-lover’s delight,” they both announced in unison. They laughed as Yamcha pulled her into his arms, turning on the TV.

After Bulma got around to fishing out Vegeta's worn pair of boots, she instantly put them in the washer. _Men can sure test my patience...and the tolerance of my nose, _she thought as she heard the doorbell ring and quickly walked from the laundry room to the front door to greet the pizza guy.

“What is this, woman?” Vegeta asked when dinner was placed on the table.

She poured her men glasses of the sodas they had requested before they all sat down. Bulma opened the box of pizza, put a slice on her plate, and then served them their slices in turn.  
  
“I guess it’s time to formally introduce you to a real Earth delicacy. It’s called pizza-more specifically Meat Lover’s Delight, and it comes in these convenient boxes.”  
  
Vegeta sniffed the slices on his plate. Bulma started him out with three of them. She knew for a fact he was going to need much more than that, but this at least gave him a chance to sample a portion.  
  
“They smell edible.”  
  
She laughed. “That’s because they are. Sorry, it’s not some fancy salmon or caviar, your highness.”  
  
He bit into his first slice. “I don’t know what either of those things are. If they’re Earth delicacies, I suppose the equivalent on Vegetasei would be vorslags, roasted alive over an open fire with faldera berries and a good, hearty vine fruit beverage.”  
  
“Well that sounds good, I guess…except for the savage, roasted alive bit,” Bulma mused, casually chewing into her slice. “What else do your people eat?”  
  
Vegeta stopped eating for a moment and glanced up at her from his fourth slice. Her wanting to know more was mildly interesting, but not unlike what he’d come to expect from the scientist. He decided to keep his description brief.

“We had large food. Your food, from what I’ve seen, is tiny. Big fruits and vegetables, and our hunters caught large beasts, like norbecks and vorslags, much larger than your elk or buffalo. Enough to satisfy my people in one or two courses. In fact, our beasts are so large in comparison to yours, that it would take a small army of your weak race to bring one down,” he finished with a self-satisfied smile.

“Well I’m sure I could bring them to heel with my technological capabilities, might even endanger a species or two if I wasn’t careful,” Bulma countered with confidence.

Again, Vegeta considered her for a moment, remembered the weapon advancements she loved to flaunt and, deciding that actually might be truthful, remained silent. It made no difference; the beasts were extinct. He wanted to finish his meal tonight and not argue for once. This particular Earth food was proving to be rather good.

“Anyways,” Yamcha broke the silence. “Tomorrow, I was thinking Panchy should cook ramen. Your mother makes a mean beef noodle bowl, B.”

She looked to Yamcha and smiled. “You’re right, babe. I’ll ask mom when she comes home.”

As they finished their meals, Bulma's phone rang at her hip. She pulled it out and saw it was Krillin calling, so she answered.  
  
"Hey, Krillin, what's new?"  
  
_"Not much, other than we found another dragon ball in Parsley City! Some vendors were trading it and without your funding, we never would have been able to buy it."_

"Hey, it's for a good cause. Getting the dragon balls back means more wishes. Speaking of which - has Goku decided on the next set of wishes?"  
  
Krillin paused, trying to think if Goku had even specified. _"No, he actually hasn't told me any ideas yet."_

"Well, nothing could be worse than Oolong's wish for women's underwear." She laughed as she looked at the men across from her who were giving her weird looks.

Krillin cringed. _"That and my potential hoagie wish..."_

Bulma laughed again and then cringed too.

"Let's hope Master Roshi never gets a chance to be taken seriously, otherwise I could be in trouble again!" Krillin laughed that time with her, and it was Yamcha's turn to wince.

"I'll deck him before he ever gets another peek, Bulma."

"I know, and I'd hold you to it, babe!" Bulma smiled at him.

"That old hermit knows no restraint. It's despicable." Vegeta grunted, crossing his arms. Even Vegeta, who hadn't been on Earth long, knew to steer clear of that pervy, weird turtle man.

"Well hey, I gotta go, bud. We're finishing dinner. Congrats on the latest success in finding dragon balls - remember to keep my radar clean! Bye Krillin, I'll talk to you soon!" Krillin gave his regards as Bulma pressed end on the call.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be caught dead showing Roshi anything of mine ever again," Bulma smirked.

"Implying that you have before?" Vegeta said with a judgmental sneer.

"Believe me, being at the Kame house for any amount of time was a real test on your womanhood. And yes, I spent a lot of time there, which meant Master Roshi used every opportunity he could to get a chance to hike my skirt up. That silly old bastard."

Yamcha chuckled. "’Kay well for your sake, I won't tell our guest about the time you lifted your shirt and-"

"That's enough walking down memory lane, Yamcha!" He was laughing now, full-on and at her expense.

"It was stupid, I was...too young and- _just shut up Yamcha_!" He was still laughing at her, and Vegeta was trying his best to ignore it all and finish his pizza. Bulma's cheeks were redder than pomegranates at this point, and she began slapping her boyfriend to get him to stop.

"Alright, if you don't stop laughing, I'll get my_ dad_ to cook-and no noodles either-then we'll see who can still walk upright you..._you pig_!" Yamcha's laughter died down into nervous chuckling after her threat.

"Come on Bulma, you and I both know you're too smart to..._”accidentally”_ show him your crotch again!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he immediately stood and fled the kitchen to make for his room upstairs.

"FUCK YOU YAMCHA!" Bulma roared as she took off after him.

Vegeta watched them both leave before going back to eating his pizza, content to once again enjoy a meal in peace and silence.

"Hmph. Idiots. Alone at last." 

Naturally, he spoke too soon as Panchy suddenly appeared in her kitchen. She and Dr. Briefs had, at last, returned home from their date.

"Oh yum, honey! You guys called for pizza huh? Woah! That sure is a lot, such an impressive man, Vegeta!"

_Damn woman_, he thought as he ignored her. Knowing this infuriating female that occupied this space wasn't going to let up and leave him be, he stood and made his way from the room, taking a box of pizza with him, knowing the one place where he knew he was safe from interruption.

"So strong, look at those muscles! Wow, Vegeta, we sure feed you pretty well, huh?" Panchy chirped at her usual high-pitched shrill and, with that, Vegeta made his hasty exit with a loud thud of the patio door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning isn't meant to be very serious, and I hope you guys enjoyed those nods to the OG Dragon Ball :D


	2. Jackie Wilson, Chicken, and Mac-and-Cheese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** This is another chapter now freshly edited by the amazing BundyShoes!  
Thanks for the kudos so far! Yeah, the beginning is going to feel a little slow at first, but that's usually how it goes. Unless you start with an explosion. Or something equally loud. Anyways, here's chapter 2.
> 
> I don't own DBZ.

Bulma was neck-deep in her latest prototype. She had pulled out all the stops when Vegeta had touched back down and she had begun to work hard on a new sort of bot, one that would prove to be the next breakthrough in the engineering community. Her family was leading the trail on developing new defense technology. The bots would be called drones, and she was working out the kinks and tweaking circuitry to prepare her advancements to be displayed at her dad’s corporate office located in the commons of West City. She loved getting her hands dirty for science’s sake and she was almost ready to test out her hard work on a training bot.

She had set up a main control board for the drone prototypes so that, while in their preliminary stages, they had one location for operation and control. Soon she hoped to fuse the drones with artificial intelligence to advance their autonomy and make them more manageable. She was currently working underneath the main control board, soldering circuit boards and listening to her favorite smooth music playlist on her speaker system that was now blasting Jackie Wilson through the lab.  
  
“You’re love, keeps lifting me higher…” Her torch distracted her from hearing the door to her lab open and shut as an angry Saiyan making his way over to where she now lay on her back.  
  
“Woman! WOMAN!”

"Higher and higher..." she continued singing to herself.

Vegeta’s stomping was so powerful that she felt the ground shake, causing Bulma to pause in confusion as she wondered if something in her lab was breaking."

"WOMAN COME OUT THIS INSTANT!"  
  
Bulma jumped at his yelling and her head thumped the cabinet she was working under.  
  
“Ow! Damn it... Vegeta!” She crumpled as she made her way out from under her work, rubbing the top of her now throbbing forehead.

“What could you possibly need now?” She snapped in an exasperated tone, still holding her head.

“I’m famished, and your mother went out for more groceries," he told her, as if it was obvious, since he wouldn’t come down into her space just to converse.

Her eyebrow hiked and she frowned, unamused. “That's what all the commotion is about? You want me to what, feed you?”

He crossed his arms. “I need to rest after training. I require sustenance while your mother is away. I don’t know how to cook your Earth food, and I don’t feel like eating charred carcass or presenting an unnecessary hazard to your stove. So either you cook something, or I get more irritable. Or maybe I’ll decide to char you instead.”

She stood with care, ignoring his threat and was cautious not to injure herself further. She took her long blue hair down from her ponytail and shook it out, needing some type of stress release before switching gears from engineer to apparently a cook. Vegeta watched but averted his eyes when she came back up.

“What do you want to eat?” She asked with patience, deciding it would be easier to just come back down to her project later than to fix any fire damage he might cause.

“Whatever you can make is acceptable from the fridge or pantry.”

“So anything. Okay,” she made her way out of her lab, but Vegeta was eyeing her drone project with thinly-veiled interest.

“Let’s go,” she told him with earnest, not wanting him to peek. It would spoil the surprise because when she was finished, she wanted not only him, but the whole _world_ to be shocked and awestruck by what she's done. But that'll all have to wait until she made the prince some chicken and mac-and-cheese.

He gave her a sneer and turned on his heel to walk down the hallway with her to find him some food.

* * *

“I suppose your cooking is acceptable, woman. But the other woman’s skills are perceptibly better.”

Bulma took another dish from the suds in the sink and rinsed it under the faucet. “I don’t mind that I don’t cook as well as my mom. She has a natural talent for culinary arts, and she took classes in college.”

“What’s college?”

She rinsed another pot. “School. Basically, it works like this: little kids go to preschool for shapes and colors; basic concepts. They then progress to elementary school for reading, writing, math, science…etcetera. They continue through middle school if it isn’t connected to elementary school, depending on where you live. Then high school teaches deeper understandings of the various topics, then if you have the will and the money, you go to college. College is the fine-tuning of skills to prepare for a life-long occupation.”

Vegeta scoffed at her descriptions. “That sounds like a lot of superfluous steps. On my planet, children live with their parents until about the age of three. They are then expected to learn to strengthen themselves to withstand various missions to either purge another planet or survive harsh environments. If they make it to age six, they are fitted for the army and trained in militant combat. The lesser the strength of a Saiyan, the lower the occupation. This is decided at birth. Weak Saiyans become servants and if they show intelligence, they are tested for other factions. Only the strong hold ranking potential on Vegetasei.”

Bulma thought about his words. “So I would be considered weak…right?”

“Woman, there isn’t a ranking for you on any Saiyan scale. It would take concentration, and someone would need to already be looking for you to pick up on your energy. You are considered that weak.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “Yeah well, my intelligence would ensure I would surpass any test you could throw my direction.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you’re missing the point. Saiyans don’t value that kind of strength. They only value what they can see, touch, or feel physically. If they can’t feel or test your strength, it’s as if it doesn’t exist. Factions are superficial. They are just there for Saiyans to feel important, but they aren’t to the benefit of our race. Intelligence is what keeps you and your squadron alive. But intelligence alone - it’s an outlier, and we don’t treat weak scientists kindly, or with high regard. In fact, most don’t trust them. Do you understand what I’m trying to convey?”

She leaned against the counter. “Yeah, that I’m as good as dumb on your planet if I can’t beat someone with my fists,” she quipped dismissively, jaw clenched.

Vegeta observed her for a moment and deduced that this angered her considerably. He rolled his eyes.

“Woman, you can allow that to offend you if that’s what you wish. Strength is everything to my people, that’s the way of it.”

“I can be strong.”

He laughed at her then, finding genuine humor in her arguing. She was as feisty as they come on his planet, or at least she would have been, had his planet not been eviscerated.

“When you can best your _Yamcha_ in combat, well, we’ll consider that level 0.”

Her face heated at that. “Whatever. I don’t have time for petty banter. I have work to do.” She left him alone in the kitchen to finish his meal in silence.

He smirked as she left, finishing his plate and depositing it in the sink.

Bulma didn’t want to show that his words affected her, but she had always felt physically weak compared to the fighters. She hardly impressed Vegeta, despite being a genius - and this bothered her for reasons she couldn’t parse. She found renewed vigor in her work as she thought of ways to prove her own strengths, knowing for a fact if the men didn’t have her technology half of the time, they would be practically hopeless. This made her feel slightly better. She turned her stereo back on and checked screws, singing Queen lyrics at the top of her lungs. 


	3. Future Boys, Halfwits, and Explosions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't feel the need to go back over the story we all know because chances are, if you've taken up reading fanfics of DBZ, you know that story very well. lol Anyways, thank you to those who have kudo'ed and followed, I appreciate it immensely. Welp, here's the next chapter!
> 
> **BundyShoes has edited this chapter now as well! :D She's doing such a great job, it's really helping me capture moments more impactfully in the story. I love it!!
> 
> I don't own DBZ.

The boy from the future. He cut their enemies down in practically minutes, slicing Frieza to bits, and finishing off King Cooler like it was nothing. All in his ancestry's legendary form, no less. This perplexed and greatly angered Vegeta, as he watched both Kakarot the clown, and the runt power up and transform. How was it possible? He knew how Kakarot could manage it, the proof of that was his return from the eradication of planet Namek. But this boy, Vegeta could feel the power radiating from him in waves from kilometers away. Vegeta was balling his fists at his sides. He was beside himself with how angry this all made him.

He felt the burning of indignant outrage flex and stretch his muscles, the tension visible, but no one was looking at him. Their attention was on the boy across the way from them on the rough terrain.

His arrival raised a litany of questions for the group. Who was he? What did he want? How was he able to destroy Frieza and the rest of the Cooler trash so easily, like killing insects?

As Goku talked with the boy in private, none of them could quite make out what they were doing, much less saying. None save for Piccolo, who could hear every bit of the conversation. After some dialogue, he smirked and looked over at Vegeta.

"Wow, who knew."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "Who knew what, Namekian?" Vegeta snarled, arms firmly in place over his chest.

"Nothing important…to you." Piccolo looked to Bulma then, who was shuffling into Yamcha's arms, ready to go back home. Yamcha rose and took off into the sky. Piccolo returned his attention to the prince.

"Oh really? I will be the judge of that. Tell me what you know," Vegeta demanded. He was already on edge, and the fact that the Nemekian was implying he knew more than Vegeta did was doing nothing to curb the Saiyan's rage.

"Well, I won't tell you the stuff about you, but I will tell everyone the information that will be beneficial to our lives."

Vegeta swore crossly about the Namek's "know-it-all" race and chose to coerce Kakarot into telling him instead. Goku had finished discussing future events and plans with the runt and they both made their way back to the group. Goku, with the help of Piccolo, told them of future events to come, and the need to prepare for the oncoming battle for Earth against the androids. Vegeta still felt that he wasn't being told the full story and proceeded to interrogate Kakarot.

"Sorry, Vegeta, Tr-I …mean the boy from the future specifically told me to keep certain things secret. I have to respect that. He's afraid he'll interfere too much and his future won't happen."

"Oh yeah? And you of all people are privy to this knowledge, Kakarot? I guess it mustn't be that important then."

“Yes, it is Vegeta!"Goku exclaimed, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Silence Goku!" Piccolo interrupted, tired of their bickering. "He's just baiting you. The androids will be touching down three years from now. We need to prepare."

Tien shook his head. He looked to Chiaotzu, who gave him a silent nod.  
  
"Okay. So, then we have our goal. Defeat the androids - protect Earth. Got it. Let's go Chiaotzu, no time to waste for us." Tien said, and both him and Chiaotzu took off to the north.

"Yes and no more distractions from halfwits or future boys. I've had it with these diversions. We have our plans; we will train until the time comes. I'll kick the android's asses - and then you’re next, Kakarot."

"Looking forward to it, Vegeta," Goku smirked before they all flew off to their various destinations to start preparing for the coming battle.

* * *

It was late when Vegeta arrived back on Capsule Corp grounds. He inhaled Earth's atmosphere and looked up at the light of the setting sun as it quickly faded into night.

_Such a thin atmosphere, I almost get light-headed sometimes_, he thought. He walked up to the patio door and went inside. Bulma sat on a stool at the counter island in the kitchen, her face lit by a small tablet screen, sipping on a cup of something earthy smelling. He sniffed the air.

"What is that in your cup, woman?"

She took another sip of the contents, vapors wafting around her cheeks. "Coffee. It's good stuff. Want some?"

As he sat on the stool across from her, she pushed her mug towards him, "Here, try some.”

He picked up the cup and sniffed the liquid inside. It smelled sweet and strong. He took a sip…and then took another.

"It has a sweetness to it, but there's a bold aftertaste. I'm not sure I like its bitterness," the prince mused.

Bulma laughed softly. "Alright, three vanilla creamers it is. Who knew the Prince of all Saiyans had a sweet tooth?”

She prepped the coffee pot for a couple of cups. He swirled her mug around some before sliding it back over to her side of the counter.

"Those androids sound like a pretty big deal, huh?" the blunette said offhandedly.

"Hmph. We'll see soon enough."

"Three years is a long time, Vegeta."

She pulled a mug down off the rack and poured the coffee inside it before pushing it and three creamers over to him.

She liked these moments at night when the fighting and the bullshit was dropped and she could lure him into a quiet conversation. First, she had baited him with gazing at the stars, and now she supposed they were ready to conversate inside over coffee. She figured if he was going to make himself a permanent resident at her family's compound, their interactions didn't always have to be charged with adrenaline and pride. These civilized talks were steps in the right direction as far as she was concerned.

"I'm…I'm worried that it still isn't enough time," He confessed. Bulma's eyebrows shot up, surprised at his statement.

"For what, exactly? That transformation you go on about? Super…Saiyan? Huh. Well, in my opinion, if anyone can obtain that kind of power, it would be you.”

He glanced up at her from his cup. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke again, his brow furrowing.

"There are certain…specifications."

"Like what?" She asked, taking a long sip from her mug.

"Well, apparently, you have to be...strong of heart," he managed to say after some difficulty.

"You get one point right there. You definitely have heart and passion. Anyone of us knows that."

The crease in his forehead deepened as he thought. "Yes, but my heart isn't pure in the standard sense. Kakarot…he is what you all consider good. I simply am not."

Bulma shook her head. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

"No woman, I do give myself enough credit. I'm evil. I'm not meant to be good," he countered, relaxing on his stool as if he found agreement in himself with this statement.

She looked at him in the eye for a moment. He stared back, before growing uncomfortable under her gaze and took a sip of his coffee.

He felt like she was looking somewhere deep inside him and he wasn't used to that kind of attention. When others stared into his eyes too long, he knew they had found a weakness and were seconds from attempting to exploit it. For some reason, his instincts weren’t perceiving her gaze as a threat and it confused him.

"I think life is more complex than just good and evil. It's grayer than that. We don't always do things with clear motives and intentions, people we care about get hurt, we win some battles, we lose others. I don't always make good choices, sometimes you actually do make good choices. You came from a pretty bad place, with Frieza and all. But I believe you will surprise us yet. Don't discount us and you may find that we might not actually be just dirt under your boot…" she trailed off her sentence.

"Well, if you're done psychoanalyzing for the night, I have to sleep for an early day of training tomorrow,” he groused as he rose from his stool, annoyed by the shift in conversation.

She smirked and winked at him, causing him to visibly ruffle at her mannerisms. He made a hasty exit for his room, and she went back to her tablet, a small smile on her face.

He trudged up the stairs and opened his door. Setting himself down on the bed, his mind wandered as he began to pull his clothes off to get ready for sleep.

She made him…uncomfortable- and not in a way that made sense to him. However, she made good a point regardless of what he felt - not that he would ever be caught alive admitting to that.  
  
Life was a complex palette of light and dark as well as changing perspectives. Good versus evil alone was a shallow concept, he had to give her that.

_But what I did, what I've done…she'd consider that evil for sure._

No doubt he was used to feeling evil and even enjoying a good purge as much as he enjoyed warm baths there at the compound. However, he didn't enjoy the repercussions that came with the territory - like the screaming he sometimes woke up to at night, realizing it came from his own subconscious and not being able to rid his thoughts of death and destruction even when he wanted to think about other things. He liked sunsets or a good sparring session with a fellow Saiyan. He considered those things good. He also liked the attention and care the woman gave him so far in his stay on this planet.

That last one startled him, bringing him back to sharp focus.

He studied the light that was coming in softly from the window and thought about the source of the glow. The moon was a source of power to him and his people, but showed no favoritism. It shined on all alike, evil or benign, and he again thought back to the woman as he drifted off to sleep and, within the privacy of his own thoughts, decided there was no difference in their light.

* * *

Late afternoon the following day, Bulma received another call from Krillin updating her on their current mission to uncover the dragon balls once more.

_"Yeah, me and Gohan have found two now- one was deep in a rainforest, in a big lizard's nest, who guarded the ball like what you'd expect, and the other was in a desert. When that one touched down, it stuck itself into the side of a pyramid. Not hard to get that one, but it was way too hot. How are things going with your...houseguest?"_

Bulma sighed, "Well, he hasn't broken anything important this week, but it's only Tuesday. He's trying hard to ascend and Yamcha and Puar are trying to stay out of his way, because every time Yamcha asks to borrow the gravity room, Vegeta throws a fit and kicks him across the yard. It would be funnier if it wasn't important that everyone has a chance to prepare how they see fit. We need to have as many strong fighters to fight the androids."

_"Well, that makes sense, and - heheh - Vegeta sharing. That's a good one. Good to hear everyone is prepping in their own way I guess."_

"Yeah, well see, Vegeta doesn't see it that way. He sees it as an unnecessary waste for anyone else to be training because he's going to ascend and take the androids head-on by himself. I say whatever at this point. I can't ever control him when it comes to the GR, so I leave him be. I have other projects taking up my time. Speaking of which, can you promise to keep this between me and you? I don't want the wind to catch with this research and certain people come sniffing about."

_"Sure Bulma, what is it?"_ Just as Bulma began to speak, she heard an enormous explosion coming from the back yard.

_"What was that?" _Bulma heard Krillin say over the line._  
_

"I don't know, but I have an idea. I gotta run, Krillin – good luck on finding the other dragon balls!" She dropped her phone and ran through the compound to the back yard.

Her gravity room was in flames - the top had blown clear off, leaving the core belching dark smoke into the air.

"Vegeta!" She yelled, running to the wreckage.

She moved some rubble around before a hand shot straight up through the debris. She screamed and jumped back onto the yard. Vegeta dragged himself out of the wreck and forcing himself upright, rose to stand before her.

She took in his marred appearance. His clothing was ripped and practically hanging off his body, exposing more muscles and burnt flesh than she was used to seeing. She couldn’t help but stare at him.

He could make even the most sculpted body builders want that kind of physique.  
  
She snapped out of her trance to focus on a bloody wound that was steadily flowing on Vegeta’s chest.

"Vegeta, you're bleeding!"

"Shut up, woman! I'm fine! This…this is nothing, I'll…" He didn't finish his next words, because he fell back down into the scrap metal.

Bulma was at his side in an instant, pulling him into her arms.

"No, you're not fine, you've been training 15 hours straight - I was counting. I told you to go easy on this room! Now you have to wait and recover before you can train again. Come on, let’s get you upstairs."

Yamcha had heard the explosion and had rushed down the stairs, only to freeze in the yard as he took in the sight before him.  
  


Bulma had Vegeta in her arms and was cradling his torso while the remains of the gravity room smoldered around them in flames, still churning out smoke.

Even if she was responding naturally…the way she was holding Vegeta struck a nerve in the man that he hadn’t experienced before. He caught the concern in her eyes, and he felt a bitter sensation form in the pit of his stomach.

  
Bulma looked at her boyfriend standing motionless on the grass. _Why isn’t he doing something? Quit being useless and help me!_ she thought angrily.

“Yamcha! Get my father! We need to put this fire out. I'll handle getting Vegeta upstairs."  
  
Yamcha nodded slowly before running inside to find Dr. Briefs.

She shook Vegeta, trying to keep him conscious. His ears were still ringing, so her voice sounded more distorted and more annoying than usual.

"Vegeta, wake up. Hey, can you stand?"

Vegeta moaned in response, trying to find a way to stand on his own.

She reached out for him, but when he went to slap her away, she dodged his attacks and caught him before he could fall back down.

"Let's go, tough guy. It's only me out here. No one to act high and mighty for." She brought his arm across her shoulders and led him down from the remains of the chamber and into the safe confines of her family’s compound.

Vegeta managed to make it to his bedroom with Bulma's help and, as she laid him down, he started coughing roughly, still choking on smoke. She ran downstairs and returned with the best medical gear she could readily get her hands on. When she returned, she brought in an oxygen tank and mask set for him to place over his face so it could help bring fresh oxygen into his body. She couldn't get him to clean up just yet, so she brought in wet wash cloths from the bathroom and began running them over his arms and legs as well as prepping his burns for bandages.

He grunted and moaned in pain when she brought antiseptic to his non-burnt wounds, but knew he would need painkillers soon after, so she left again to find him some medications. She brought up an IV bag and wheeled over its hook, hanging the bag and then began locating a good vein in his arm. He pulled away when she began swabbing the crook of his arm with an alcohol patch.

"Relax, I need to give you your medication through this IV. The liquids inside will also keep you hydrated and speed your recovery. Now give me your arm, unless you're also afraid of needles like Goku…"

"Hmph! I'm not afraid of needles like that silly idiot!"

"Then prove it. Lay your arm back down," she challenged, and he laid it on the bed with some reluctance.

His veins were certainly not hard to find, and she began inserting the needle into the first one she found, then firmly held the IV in place with medical tape. He didn't even flinch. The liquid began making its way into Vegeta's body, and the chilly substance soothed him from the inside out.

"I'm going to give you a sedative through this tube, so you're going to feel drowsy and, with some luck and the right dose, you'll end up sleeping." Bulma readied the needle to give him the sedative through his tubing and, as she did, she noticed he was already nodding off.

She first pushed the medication into his tube, so he could begin to heal. After a couple of seconds, she pushed the sedative in slowly, as she wanted to be careful not to give him too much. Bulma had also brought up some Percocet in pill form, so he could take those later. She set some electrodes on his chest, so she could track his heart rate and be ready to wake up if he started showing signs of distress. The heart monitor was right by her head, and the steady rhythm of his heart was starting to make her drowsy. After she was satisfied with her work, she laid her head down in her arms on the desk and fell asleep soon after cleaning up.

The second night after his accident, Vegeta began having dreams. He dreamt about the boy from the future and Kakarot, side by side, both powered up into legendary super Saiyan transformations, taunting him and telling him he will never get to be this powerful. They started to yell and grow in size, towering over him. He fell to his knees in his nightmare, losing himself to his fear and sense of defeat.

Until he heard a voice.

_"Vegeta. Stop. Don't listen to that part of yourself. You will ascend and attain that status. You will be stronger and surpass them. Don't give up. I believe in you. Do this for yourself, your people, do it for me."_   
  


He woke with a start at the end of the last dream.

  
Breathing heavily, he looked over and saw the woman, Bulma, her head turned in his direction. Though he had heard her voice, her eyes were still shut in a slumber of her own.

_What was she doing here? _He thought, _I thought she would've left by now. And it couldn't have been her talking to me out loud, she was asleep. But the dream had made it sound like she was in front of me speaking clear as day. What strange things to dream about. How bizarre…_

The second time he woke up, she was touching him with a white fluffy ball. He grabbed for it, plucking it from her fingers and observing it for himself. It had a gooey substance on it, and when he went to sniff it, she snatched it back from him.

"I have work to do, so I have to hurry and rub this antibacterial cream on you to keep you from getting an infection. I already changed your bandages. It looks like you're healing rapidly. You can start training again by Friday, okay?"

He grunted and shut his eyes. She sighed and administered another dose of meds through his IV.

"Sleep well, Vegeta. I'll check on you later tonight."

* * *

True to her word, Bulma went back to check on the prince later that evening and found him lying down right where she left him. She smiled and walked over to his bed.

She then checked his vitals and observed his heart rate. The monitor showed a normal rhythm, and he wasn't showing visible signs of pain. She took in his appearance, and even though he was bandaged and bruised, his relaxed face had her transfixed.

_  
His face looks different when he isn't angry._ _He's so...handsome - when he isn't scowling. _

  
Without much thought and against better judgement, she bent down and kissed him on the part of his forehead that wasn't bandaged. Maybe it was her nurturing instincts that caused her action. She was at least happy he wasn't dead.

_  
Rest easy, you big grump._

  
She turned off the lamp on his night stand and walked towards the door, closing it behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It was brought to my attention on FF that a story inconsistency was present in this chapter, so I moved it and replaced it with what you see at the end.


	4. Gravity Rooms, Geniuses, and Pure Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter correctly edited by the amazing BundyShoes!
> 
> Enjoy the chaos!

Thursday came and went for Bulma and her father while they worked tirelessly to bring the GR back to functional status. They cleaned the debris, salvaged what materials they could still use and, piece by piece, the gravity chamber’s outer shell resembled what it looked used to look like pre-Saiyan prince accident. That was their entire morning and afternoon. It was now eight’ o clock in the evening and they had only now begun prepping the inside of the chamber for brand new circuitry. Bulma and Dr. Briefs had to start over from ground zero on the inside of the room, wiring new circuitry, fitting it with new gravity-tempered lining around the inner metal shell. It was, as Bulma eloquently put it, ‘a hot mess up in that bitch.’

Vegeta finished pulling the rest of his bandages from his torso and, as he balled them up, he looked out the window to the backyard. He could hear the two scientists working throughout the entire day, the buzzing of machinery fresh in his mind. He could tell they were working on the inside now, and it only frustrated him as he would still have to wait to use it.

He stepped down from his bed and began doing push-ups, but when he got to 100, he stopped. He tensed up in anger and then got back on his feet. It wasn’t the same. Any sort of stretch or flex wouldn’t be the same under normal earth gravity. Between him being in recovery for several days and now having to wait for the chamber to be ready for him to use again, it had him on the edge of his patience.

He thought back to Kakarot and the future kid, the light exuding from their combined energy, and the smirks on their faces in his dream and it sent him straight downstairs and outside to find the Briefs and insist they step it up so he could get back to training.

“Woman!”

Bulma heard him yelling through the door and she wiped her brow as she stepped outside briskly.

“Vegeta, we’re still working on it here. We won’t be done ‘till Saturday. You’re going to have to find a way to entertain yourself until we finish. Just go lay down and continue to relax until you're fully healed. Got it?”

“Unacceptable. I need this chamber now, or it’s another day wasted as I have yet to ascend.”

“Okay, well tough shit, because the room still needs to be recircuited and tested. It will only take two days. That’s two days to make highly advanced technology **-** that I invented with experimental physics and engineering **-** that only me and my father can make work because we’re the two smartest known minds on the planet…ready and functional for one Saiyan prince.”

Said prince stood rigidly, his arms crossing as his eyes narrowed.

“Are you insinuating that you are irreplaceable **\- **to use it for leverage against the idea of me harming you or your father?”

Bulma glared and put her hands on her hips, looking him square in the eye.

“I’m not insinuating. I’m _stating_ it, plain as day.”

Vegeta was still and quiet, a combination not very common for him. That’s the last thought that left Bulma’s head as it hit the ground.

She saw stars behind her eyelids as her body processed what had happened to her.  
She blinked to discover that the prince was right in her face, glare full of malicious venom and with narrowed eyes livid and violent. He had thrown her to the ground and was currently pinning her body down into the grass.

“I’m getting _so_ sick of your mouth. On my planet, you would not last a day with your insolent tongue. I would have ripped it out.” He said this with the timbre of a cold-blooded murderer.

She coughed, feeling her body stress over the weight of him on top of her.

“Good thing your planet is gone.”

His eyes widened and filled with fury. He was starting to see red, on the precipice of his control and ready to make good on his words. He pounded his fist into the turf next to her head, creating a large crater and causing her top half to slope into the dirt.

Bulma gasped.

“Go on, say something else. I won’t miss next time, woman," he seethed through his teeth.

“If you lay a hand on me, there won’t be anyone on this _fucking_ planet to fix that chamber. My formulas, my schematics. I know my invention-and when I’m gone, _it’s_ gone. Good fucking luck, pal," she parried furiously, throwing all remaining caution she held in her chest to the wind. 

“Bulma?”

Yamcha touched down a couple of yards away, back from baseball practice. When he registered what was happening, he ran right over to them.

“Hey! What are you doing, touching Bulma like that? Get off her, Vegeta!”

Yamcha began pushing Vegeta to get him to release his hold over Bulma.

“Back off, weakling! She tried my patience! I’m returning the favor!”

Yamcha kept pushing, even as Vegeta was besting his attempts. “No, _you_ back off, man! She’s been working every day to help you train in some new stupid, crazy way! Now show her some respect and leave her alone, jackass!”

“Yamcha, just go inside. Thanks, but I’ve got this handled, mom made dinner, go inside and eat," Bulma murmured, eyes never leaving the prince's face.

Yamcha hesitated and watched Vegeta warily, still sensing serious hostility. But he trusted Bulma. Yamcha looked at her, and she nodded her affirmation. He turned and jogged to the patio door, looking once more before opening it and stepping inside.

Vegeta returned his attention to Bulma now, and it was her turn to go frigid.

“Vegeta, get off of me.”

He glared at her, still angry from their exchange. Several beats passed before he finally decided this wasn’t worth his time nor energy. He rose from his position above her and took several steps back. She leapt to her feet and then stumbled. Catching herself from falling, she righted herself quickly, dusted her clothes off, and made her way to the patio door, intent on having dinner with her family.

Vegeta stood, ever stoic and proud, ready to go on the offensive once more.  
  
“That’s right, woman, go tuck tail and run to Yamcha. It’s what you do when you can’t take the heat, wench.”

She paused before whipping around, walking back towards him.

“Excuse me, but FUCK you, Vegeta,” she yelled into his face.

He stepped closer to her, his height allowing him to look down into her eyes, which were staring back into his with every bit of hateful heat she could generate. The effect had him slightly hypnotized.

“No. Fuck you, _Bulma_.”

She knew he was testing her, trying to get further under her skin, to see how far this moment could be pushed now.

If only he knew where it would go - she was unpredictable and spontaneous. Ever surprising and challenging him and his ego. He was standing chest to chest with her, feeling her breasts push into him now, and the effect was almost debilitating. But both parties were rather lofty in their levels of tenacity. Neither was going to give up ground or admit that the air around them warmed considerably...

“You think you’re so high and mighty, prince. But you’re down here in the dirt with us, on a ‘backwater planet’, and you’re here for the next fight of your life that will fill you with a purpose you so desperately crave. If you left, you know you’d be missing out on the next greatest challenges of your existence** -** and your pride isn’t going to let you of all people give that up. So, I will keep fulfilling your demands and making _damn_ certain I’m giving you the best fucking equipment you’ve ever had the privilege of knowing existed, but I’ll do it on _my _time. Now go do some training and make yourself useful. I’ve got to get some food and then sleep and _yes_, it will be with my boyfriend, Yamcha.” She pushed him back with one finger and he allowed it, still processing her words.

“And we won’t only be sleeping… pleasant dreams, Prince Vegeta,” she purred, her words curling around him, subtly eating at his resolve. As she walked off, he swallowed, growled, and bitterly made his way for the Capsule Corp gym, simmering at her words and thinking about the power in her voice, trying not to falter at something she stirred somewhere deep inside him.  
  


* * *

Bulma and her father had finally managed to bring the GR back online and fully functional, adding new safety features to the controls and interior, and making it harder for the prince to try and blow himself up this time.

Like with every invention she created, she improved on her work and managed to make it several times better and more efficient. Vegeta could now train at 500G if he could withstand the pressure, and that modification could be held for several days before the room would need to be serviced.

Unfortunately for Bulma, she didn’t do anything to his training bots but put existing models she had ready in her lab inside. She was still testing her drones and couldn’t afford to have him bang those around just yet.

Bulma was finishing up for the day, working hard on her drones, when she heard it. The GR had been turned on and she knew exactly who was inside. She sighed and then perched a smirk on her lips. She flipped open the GR panel cover on her lab wall, switching everything to OFF. She sat down and waited. It was only a matter of time.

She felt him before she heard him. He marched up to her lab door, beating his fists against it, no doubt denting the outer metal frame. She slid the door open, and he took a sharp inhale through his nose.  
  
“Turn it back on.”  
  
Bulma was geared and ready for him. “No! Get your ass back in bed and rest.”  
  
“Woman! Stop testing the limits of my patience!” He roared into her face.  
  
“Stop testing mine! For Kami’s sake! It’s only going to take longer for you to heal- give it one more day! GO. LAY. DOWN!” She enunciated the last part, trying to express her annoyance with his persistence.  
  
“Aurrrghhh! FINE. IF I DON’T ASCEND SOON, I’M KILLING YOU.”  
  
“BITCH I’M PART OF THE REASON YOUR ASS WILL ASCEND! UPSTAIRS! SLEEP! NOW VEGETA!” 

The woman was weak, but she was fierce in her own way.

  
He’d get back at her for this.  
  


* * *

_  
Crash_. **Boom**.

  
“Oh, woman! Come see how weak your bots are! I barely touched B-7. That one managed to combust all 12 of them…_WOMAN _!”

She stomped through the yard, coffee in hand and Yamcha in tow, a scowl drawn distinctly on her face.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT, YOU ALL-MIGHTY PAIN IN MY ASS?”

Vegeta stepped out of his now smoking chamber, walking towards her with a twisted smile on his lips. He chuckled sinisterly.  
  
“Your bots - they’re trash.”

“NO. Just _trashed_. By an ungrateful _jackass_. If you’re gonna break them on purpose, then you can wait for me to fix them, and you can bet _I’ll be taking my damn time_,” she pointed at him accusingly. He stood in a strong stance, hips in her direction with his  
arms crossed, ready to take her head-on.

“Unacceptable! I need them now to assist in my transformation to become a super Saiyan! And that is a damn lie, I didn’t destroy them purposefully - there was most certainly a glitch!”

Her hands were now firmly planted on her hips. She was ready to counter him and his recklessness.

“Oh, please, the only_ glitch_ is in your logic. And you should have thought about that before you decided to break my equipment for no reason!”

Yamcha had long since covered his ears and began to walk back inside. He had a threshold for how long he could take the yelling those two did, and he wanted peace before baseball practice.

“Well if you paid more attention to your design, they wouldn’t have been so easily obliterated!”

“That DESIGN is eons ahead of the latest technology on the planet, Capsule Corp is years ahead of any competitors in simulation tech, and it’s because I’ve spent so much damn time perfecting formula after circuit board, and you just destroyed my work on purpose!”

“Yeah, well it’s clearly still not good enough if I can destroy them on a whim,” Vegeta stated flippantly, observing some dirt on his glove.

She clenched her fists and let out a very frustrated, shrill shriek.

“I will make new ones _later_! When I’m ready to sit down and start from square one. Which is infuriating. But I’m Bulma _fucking_ Briefs, and I’ll ensure you won’t destroy this next set of training bots. With that said, I’m going back inside to finish my breakfast. _Stop wrecking my shit_!” She gave an exaggerated groan, then turned heel and marched back inside.

“Make them soon! I’ll be waiting impatiently, woman!” he called after her, not letting her have the last word.  
  
She slammed the glass door shut with a heavy thud.  
  



	5. Dinner, Dreams, and Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another chapter. As I've worked and built the outline of this story, I wanted to entertain the idea that Trunks showing up in the past altered more than just the androids. I wanted to introduce how maybe, Vegeta and Bulma's relationship was altered as well, and this actually does them a service, since it causes Vegeta to push harder and maybe....have something to eventually protect, thus saving him from his future death, by actually having something to give a shit about other than himself and his vengeance. I know the Buu Saga highlights this as fact, that he cares. But I figured Trunks could shift the future and make this happen sooner. This gives more meaning to the relationship between Vegeta and his family, and even himself. Anyways, keep that in mind as you read.
> 
> I don't own DBZ.
> 
> **Chapter editing credit goes to BundyShoes for her wonderful work!

Panchy twirled around her kitchen, tending to pot and dish as she prepared dinner for her family and their insatiable houseguest.

"Bulma, dear, will you set the table, please? I'm sure Vegeta will be out any minute, and he'll be bringing that amazing appetite of his!" she squeaked, smiling pleasantly.

Bulma groaned and pulled out the plates and silverware with slight resentment. She loved her mom, so she wanted to help her around the kitchen when she had the opportunity.

As for Vegeta? He could get bent.

But she could sense her mother didn't mind his demands. Panchy enjoyed cooking, and she enjoyed a challenge just as much as her family did.

Bulma's father sat at the table, sipping his sweet tea and enjoying his newest periodical. His eyes never left the page as his wife sat plate after plate in front of him on the table. He mechanically grabbed and ate as if on autopilot.

Bulma heard the Saiyan prince before she saw him. He stomped his way across the stones leading up to the door to the back patio and forced the glass door open.

"Oh, Vegeta! I made your favorite!" Panchy placed his plate in front of him and, despite his wince at her chirpy tone, he sat down, picked up his fork, and began making his way through his first steak without complaint

"So hungry! Such a strong man. You should start cooking for him, Bulma! Gotta keep our guest satisfied- he needs his strength," Panchy said happily.

_No mom, **I** need that strength_, Bulma groaned.

There was a certain unspoken agreement between Vegeta and Bulma that kept certain places in the house free of full-fledged arguments for the sake of peace. The kitchen was decidedly one of the places, but he still loved to subtly antagonize her if the opportunity presented itself.

Like now.

Vegeta lifted his eyes to her face and smirked.

"You should listen to your mother, woman," he sneered.

Bulma's eyes widened. That was it. That straw was breaking her back right now, after all the work she had just finished that evening just for him to train. Her anger sang in her ears, begging her to let him have it. She slammed her palms down on the table, dish and glass clinking and clattering.

"YOU SHOULD KEEP- "

"Bulma dear! Here's your plate! Be nice to Vegeta, he's a sweet man, staying to help keep us safe and all," Panchy told Bulma with a wide smile, instantly disarming her daughter.

Bulma sat back down slowly, her eyes never leaving his smug face.

God…bless her mother.

Bulma kept constant eye contact with Vegeta, eyes narrowed to slits as she picked up her fork and knife, stabbing violently at her slab of meat. Vegeta chuckled darkly and went back to his own meal, ignoring her.

"Oh dear, Bulma. Where are your manners? You know, I'm sure if you were sweet to Vegeta, he'll consider staying and marrying you, honey! Wouldn't that be perfect?"

Vegeta paused.

Bulma accidentally sucked in her steak bite mid-gasp, causing her to cough forcefully.

"_Mom-no-please_!" she said between coughs.

Vegeta watched her in amusement, visually unperturbed by the older woman's statement.

"Still dating Yamcha, mom!" Bulma reminded pointedly, still recovering from choking.

"Oh yeah, that's right, isn't it?" Panchy sighed, almost sounding disappointed. No one wolfed down her food quite like the prince.

When Bulma managed to take a sip of her water without sputtering, she stood up.

"Ugh, I've had enough excitement for one evening and I'm excusing myself. Goodnight," Bulma said decisively. She picked up her plate and glass and hastened to the sanctuary of her lab. Vegeta's eyes followed her out of the room before he shrugged derisively, going back to devouring his meal. Panchy smiled.

"Oh, she works so hard. She's probably too busy to settle down, isn't she, dear?" she asked her husband, who wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention until directly questioned.

"I suppose. She is very dedicated to our work. We aren't top of the world for nothing, honey."

Panchy sighed. "But I want grandchildren, don't you?"

The good Dr. Briefs sighed with understanding. "In time, my dear. She'll be ready when she wants to do that sort of thing. Until then, it's looking at the future of technology!" He exclaimed, returning to his journal.

Panchy sighed again, lost in thought.

Vegeta finished his plate and proceeded to ask Panchy to prepare his apple cobbler and ice cream dessert, with which she instantly perked up and left the table to prepare, worries about Bulma temporarily forgotten.

* * *

Vegeta entered the woman's lab later that night.

He needed something to do while she worked on his new bots and instigating had become his new favorite pastime.

"Your mother seems to be worried about your current lifestyle." He said casually.

She was tightening a screw on a circuit board at her desk.

He leaned into her space to peek at what she was working on and if it had to do with him.

"So? What does that even mean?" She asked him, giving him momentary eye contact.

He gave her a pointed look as if it was obvious what he had meant.

"She asked your father about you having children or things to that affect."

She didn't answer at first, being busy with a circuit she was stuck on and all. Damn stubborn screws.

"Well? Do you have an answer?"

She paused and turned to face him fully for the first time since he approached her.

"Not really? It's not really on my mind, I guess…is there some sort of angle you’re working? I'm failing to see why you care or what concerns you about that sort of mundane…. stuff," She said gesturing with her hands in lieu of having a better word.

"I think you're incredibly fortunate. You have your entire race still around you, with many different choices, and yet you choose to hole yourself up in here."

She blinked several times, suspended in disbelief.

"Um, hello? Pot meet kettle…you're such a hypocrite. You're always in that gravity room, training away what's left of your brain. There's plenty else for you to do."

He shook his head. "Your sayings are strange. But no-I have no one, except Kakarot and his brat. There are no more of my kin to establish relationships or ties.”

"_You_ could," She said, not really meaning to say it out loud.

He rolled his eyes.

She cleared her throat.

"Seriously, you could too. Saiyan DNA closely resembles that of humans. And judging by how well Gohan is doing, who's to say it would be a bad thing to continue your bloodline?"

"Even if I wanted to entertain that notion, which I don't because humans are a species of loathing...I'm not here to talk about me. That's not the point of this conversation."

"You miss our talks and sparring while I've been busy. I know what you're getting around to. Kami, just say it," she said chuckling.

He averted his eyes and his cheeks burned.

"Tch. Don't imply I'm softening like you humans. I just wish your parents would change the subject, and you should give them something new to talk about, so I can eat in peace and they can stop asking me to mate with you or something equally ridiculous."

"Oh, that's embarrassing. I'm sorry. I'll get them to stop. Besides, my dad will be very excited about my latest project and so will you."

"Oh?" He was standing next to her, looking onto her diagram. He couldn't make heads or tails of the schematics, but the diagram looked to be a sort of bot that was unlike her previous ones.

"When will these be finished?" He asked after some time.

"Soon enough, and trust me, all this time you think you're wasting without better bots is just some well-needed rest before I bring the big guns out. This new defense project is going to put you on your ass, so you'd better be ready when I'm finished."

"Is that so? The anticipation you're giving me better live up to the hype, woman. You don't want to disappoint me."

She turned to face him. "Oh really? Is that a threat?”

"I don't know. It might be if I don't start training with some actual resistance."

"500 times Earth's gravity isn't enough resistance?"

He smirked.

"I will surpass that benchmark within the next day, at least. Keep up, woman."

She shrugged.

"You will wait for my defense project just like our military will wait. Rushing means error, which means more chances to malfunction and blow you up, delaying your training. You really want to chance that?"

He put his hand down on the desk next to hers and brought himself inches from her face, looking into her eyes with a penetrating glare.

"I am not your military, nor your planet's defender. I am here for one purpose, and that is to destroy Kakarot and restore my pride. Do not misconstrue this, or get too comfortable, scientist. I have goals that must be achieved before that third-class trash touches back down on this worthless ball of dirt. You either give me what I need or you're in my way. Got it?"

Her eyes were thin slits.

"To hell with that. You touch or rush me unnecessarily-you won't see my work. I can promise you that."

His ire turned to thinly concealed rage. She could feel that he wanted to break her with his new posture, but she didn't care. She knew he had only one option for the moment, and that was to make a threat and storm off to the GR.

"Get it done within the week, or I smash you,” he said, jaw clenched. “The hell with what Kakarot could do. I will best him with sheer will, and I'll do it with or without you, you bitch."

The slap of her hand against his cheek echoed off the lab walls. He didn't feel its sting, but the effect was all the same. The mere act of assaulting him had startled him momentarily.

"’Bitch’? I know you can be more creative than that, you boorish Saiyan ape. I'll make sure Goku beats you cyclically, so you never heal. He won't kill you, but he'll get pretty close to it, and you'll never get a chance to regenerate."

Murder was fresh on his mind and the metal desk Vegeta was leaning on now had a fist-sized dent in its surface, he was fuming and holding back his anger with such intensity it was beginning to show around him, cracking and hissing with blue Ki. She wasn't afraid, and he knew that.

"_Get. It. Done_."

This was all he could manage to grind through his teeth before flashing up the stairs and back to the gravity room, crackling with energy the whole way and trying his hardest to blast the insides apart once inside.

Bulma knew this was his way, so instead of being angry with him, she smirked and went back to work.

He was seeing red. He couldn't think straight, it was like his brain was melting with the hatred he felt for the woman at that moment. She was delaying his progress. He needed to train with everything he could at his disposal to destroy Kakarot and gain back his honor that was rightfully his. Kakarot stole his rightful victory against Frieza away from him. It was Vegeta's vengeance. _He_ deserved to be the one to destroy his captor!

He blasted another bot across the room, then balled his fists and let out a frustrated scream that almost blew the top back off the chamber with its sheer power.

* * *

It was late, and Vegeta was in the kitchen, hunched over a mug of coffee in quiet contemplation.

Bulma surfaced for air after exhausting herself in her lab for several long hours.

She chose to ignore him and continued to enjoy her own personal silence as she fixed her own mug of coffee. Vegeta was the first to break the silence.

"What's the matter, Bulma? Not up for another rousing debate with me?" His presence was bearing down on her, she could feel the weight of his cold, dark eyes pouring over her face.

She turned and shot him a seething glare.

"I know what you're trying to do." She closed the distance between them now, getting into his space.

"And what would that be, woman?"

"You want to start an argument with me, rile me up because you're bored. Well, I'm not taking the bait."

"What if I wanted you to?" He said, a look present on his face that said he wasn't sure where he was going, but he wanted something.

"I... I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" He asked. His body was still, but his eyes were giving away what he was after. All of this confused her.

"Both?"

He brought his eyes up slowly from her lips and narrowed them.

"I know...something you don't want me to know," he stated with such blatant simplicity, it made her shiver.

"What would that be?" she asked.

"You want me. But there are…complications."

She looked away from him then, her face twisted in confusion as she took a few steps back as she cleared her head.

"I don't know what you really think of me, Vegeta. But let's get one thing straight. I don't hop from guy to guy on a whim. I'm with Yamcha, and I stay loyal to who I'm with. You fascinate me, but it's genuine curiosity. I can't…with you. You…don't want me anyway. I know your type."

"’Type’" He asked, taking a couple of steps towards her.

She cleared her throat. "Type. You know, the bad guy…or whatever," she huffed at the end of her statement, cheeks reddening and continuing to take steps backward.

"Yes, I suppose I am what you would call 'bad'.”

She had officially run out of space as she hit the wall behind her, his muscular form boxing her in.

"You could be loyal to me."

She gasped as he closed the space between them, hedging her in with his arms. His eyes traveled slowly over her body, ending up on her eyes, his statement still lingering in the space between them, waiting to be challenged. She closed her eyes slowly.

As his lips descended onto hers, she opened her eyes.

"Y-Yamcha…" She said and it echoed as Vegeta regained consciousness after a very restless sleep.

***

His dream still at the forefront in his mind, he threw his bed covers off and got ready to beat the images from his brain in his gravity chamber. That was the third one this week. He had to do something about this, otherwise, it was going to affect his training. He had to fight to block it out.

He stopped appearing at night for coffee and talks with Bulma, but after a week, the dreams not only increased, they became quite vivid. It only added to Vegeta's anguish. He couldn't afford this distraction. He needed to get away for a little while, just to help clear his head. The images were beginning to plague him, and it was becoming harder to concentrate on anything but imagining what he would do with her, given the chance. It had become maddening.

He set up a bag for himself with some essentials and a spare change of clothes and headed out. Maybe leveling a mountain or two would make him feel better. Or maybe beating himself into a pulp to not only get stronger but take her out of the foreground of his subconscious. Whichever tactic worked first, he assumed as he leaped down from his window and into the night.


	6. Cake Slices, Arguments, and Understandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's time to stir the pot between Yamcha, Bulma, and Vegeta! Thanks for my previous kudos, you guys are awesome.
> 
> BundyShoes freshly edited this chapter so check out her lovely work! 
> 
> I don't own DBZ.

* * *

“Yamcha, did you eat the slice of cake sitting in the fridge?”

He looked over at her from his spot on the couch.

“Depends. How special was the slice?”

She walked over to him in the living room, crossing her arms.

“My best friend Gina’s baby reveal slice I never got to eat because I showed up, gave her a baby gift and then had to leave to come immediately home for a conference call. That kind of special.”

He kept his eyes on the show he was watching, swallowing as she reached for the remote. She turned and pressed the mute button.

“Bulma, the frosting was pink on the inside. Congrats, it’s gonna be a girl!”

She re-crossed her arms.

“Yamcha, I really wanted to eat that. I was looking forward to it after I got done for the day. Mom’s taking a nap, so you know what that means,” she reached for his arm. “You get to make me a dessert.”

“No way Bulma, I don’t bake. Or cook for that matter.”

He pulled away from her to sink further into the couch.

“Ugh, Yamcha! You’re such a jerk. Seriously, what are you even good for?”

Yamcha frowned.

“That’s a little rude, Bulma. I’m plenty good for a lot of things.”

She tapped her finger across her arm.

“Okay, name three things you do to contribute to this place.”

Yamcha picked at the couch cushion and looked over at the T.V. Mouths were now moving, but no words were coming out. He sighed.

“I’m good to you, isn’t that enough contribution? I don’t make a mess, I’m polite to your family - hell, I even stay clear of Vegeta to keep the peace.”

Bulma looked down at the floor, a scowl etched into her features.

“I guess those are good things. But those are easy. What about cooking? Or yard work? Or even bringing my lunch to the office while I’m out?”

“Bulma…you have people already to do that stuff for you. Forgive me, but I think you’re reaching. What’s this really about? Look, I know I shouldn’t have eaten the slice. But you shouldn’t be so unreasonable.”

“’Unreasonable’? What’s unreasonable about you not eating my cake, huh?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left it in the fridge!”

“What? Are you serious, where else would I put it, moron?”

Yamcha stood up and stretched.

“You know what? I think it’s time I turn in. Got practice early tomorrow. Go eat the Oreos in the pantry. I didn’t eat any of those. Goodnight.”

Yamcha walked out of the room and up the stairs to his room. Bulma stood in the living room for a moment, still angry. Then she relaxed and sat down.

_What’s going on?_ She thought. _Why am I fighting with him over stupid shit? Like, cake…It was something I was looking forward to eating, sure._

But why did she get so upset? Maybe she was spending too long in the lab. It couldn’t be Vegeta. She knew he had taken off to Kami knows where a week ago, so she should be more at peace. She shouldn’t be picking petty fights. She should be enjoying her downtime. She took a deep breath and then let it out. Straightening up, she swept her hands through her hair before she grabbed the Oreos and headed to her own room for the night.

* * *

She woke up the next morning to Yamcha and her parents in the kitchen.

"Morning, dear."

Bulma yawned. "Morning, dad. What's cooking?"

"Oh, honey! Only the best meal of the week! Eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns! " Panchy chirped with excitement.

Bulma grinned wryly. "You say that every morning, mom."

"But it only gets better every time you cook it, Mrs. P," Yamcha told her, giving Bulma a pointed look.

This slightly got under Bulma's skin. Not because the statements weren't true in their own right, but because of the look he gave her. Like he was anticipating opposition. She pondered in silence as she ate her food, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

The longer Vegeta was gone, the worse things got at home for Bulma. It was like someone flipped a switch, and she and Yamcha had begun quarreling.

They fought each morning and then later he'd take off into the night without so much as a goodbye. Yamcha was over the fight-picking and needed some of his own alone time. Unfortunately for Bulma, it meant he was going to spend his time in bars or clubs, hanging out with his “teammates’.

Bulma knew he was loyal to her in spirit but always had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t always in body or mind. Her fears were confirmed one night when he came back around 3 am and she could hear female voices on his phone as he stumbled up the stairs. She spent the entire night sobbing against the wall, torn up by his alleged indiscretion.

She didn’t even come out of her room to ask him about it. It wasn’t until she heard him slam his bedroom door shut down the hall much later that she found the courage to approach him. She found him with bags in his hands.

“I can’t be here anymore, B.” He said as she confronted him.

She fought her tears, trying desperately not to lose the battle in front of him.

“But, Yamcha, I don’t understand...aren’t you happy with me? What happened?”

Yamcha shook his head.

“I don’t know. Maybe we aren’t ready for this much contact if that even makes sense. Maybe we need some space for a while, and we’ll see where things go from there. I love you, B. But the bickering and fighting…I’m not Vegeta, okay? You don’t have to fight with me.”

Bulma paused and then sighed. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Okay, I understand. I guess the stress of my project is making me a little crazy. I love you too, Yamcha. I’ll be here if you need anything,” she said wiping her eyes.

She didn’t mention what she heard earlier that night when he had come home. He kissed her forehead and the two shared a hug before he eventually made his way back out into the night.

* * *

After a couple of days giving in to the fresh mountain air and finally clearing the fog from his mind, Vegeta came home.

All before he destroyed said mountain, but all the same, it felt good.

He touched down on the balcony that lead to his bedroom and began unpacking his belongings. He snacked on a protein bar as he shuffled his clothes back into drawers and boots into his closet. Undressing, he made his way into the bathroom, well and ready for a nice, hot shower. He earned it because he could feel ascension on the horizon for him. He was bound to break through, he could feel it. The anticipation alone had him eager to get back in the chamber for some formal training.

As the warm water relaxed his tired joints, he thought about getting a real meal downstairs after having nothing but protein bars for three days straight. He tried to think of what time it was and wondered if the woman’s mother had cooked or not.

The woman. He had thought about her a few times on his journey but did everything in his power to focus on his training and concentration. He couldn’t let her constantly distract him, or he would get nothing done.

The sun had set, so it was a bit past the usual mealtime of the Briefs family. He realized he had also just eaten the last protein bar he packed. He left his room after completely unpacking and made his way into the kitchen to find that there was still food out in pots and pans, so he gathered as much as he could fit onto two plates and headed into the living room.

Bulma was laying on the couch, curled into her side. There were tissues in her closed fist, and it appeared as though she had fallen asleep crying. He looked her over and found that she seemed thinner than usual. He deduced that something had happened since he had made his departure.

He was just trying to eat.

He tapped her lightly, to get her to wake up so he could take her place.

“Woman, get up. Go sleep in your bed. I would like to watch a stupid Earth show while I eat.”

She roused at this and sat up. She blinked, rubbing her eyes to clear her face of any evidence of her crying.

“You're…you're back.”

He gave her a grunt in response. “I ran out of protein bars.” 

He set his plates down on the coffee table and then tried to get her to stand up. She refused him, fighting to keep her seat on the couch.

“Woman. Stop fighting me, I want to sit down and I want to be alone. Go to bed.”

“He…he left, Vegeta. He couldn’t handle our fighting, so he left. I feel…alone. It felt worse while you were gone, but now that you’re back, well it looks like I got my actual sparring partner back,” she laughed, despite the tears slipping down her face.

He took a pause and stopped grabbing for her. She looked pathetic. But he let out a sigh and sat down next to her, knowing good and well she wasn’t going to get up.

“I’m assuming you mean Yamcha. That good-for-nothing weakling. Let me guess, you pointed out how weak he was and he fucked off somewhere.”

Bulma’s eyes widened, sadness temporarily abandoned.

“It went something like that maybe,” she said with a sniffle.

Vegeta grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked watching his crime dramas.

“Hmph. Of course, it did. You’re too much for him.”

Bulma sniffed again.

“What?”

He settled into his spot on the couch and brought a plate of food into his lap.

“There’s too much of you for a weakling like him to take. If he can’t even mentally spar with you or fight with us, what kind of warrior is he?”

Bulma thought about this for a moment.

“He was a bandit, then he became a fighter, and now, I guess he doesn’t want that anymore. He’s a baseball player. That’s what he is.”

Vegeta thought for a moment. He then picked up his fork and began steadily shoveling noodles into his mouth. After a couple of forkfuls, he continued to idly indulge their chat.

Bulma jumped when he spoke again, still feeling drowsy and not expecting him to keep the conversation going at this point.

“So, he wants to play useless games then,” he decided.

Bulma shrugged. “It’s the best thing I can come up with.”

“He’s not good enough, woman.”

She looked at him, then focused back on the television.

“You’re probably right. But I miss him.”

Vegeta scoffed. “Why?”

She sighed.

“My heart misses him. Something you couldn’t care less about.”

“I don’t need to care about that necessarily, but you still presume too much, woman. I can be reasonable, you know that.”

She smiled at that.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Oh please, if the reason you can’t be with someone is that they can’t verbally spar, then isn’t that more unreasonable?”

She stared at him and gave him a genuine smile.

He felt his heart jump at the sight but maintained a neutral appearance.

“You’d know all about that, now wouldn’t you?” She said.

“Of course. Sparring is my specialty, is it not?”

“For once, yes, I can agree with you!” She chuckled lightly, “You actually made me feel better. Thanks.”

He had already gone back to eating and his eyes didn’t leave the television screen. He looked like he was a starving savage by the pace of his eating at that point, so she put her hands on her knees and stood up.

He paused his feast again, noticing the shift in seat cushions next to him.

“Goodnight, Vegeta.”

He grunted.

“Go grab some food, woman, I could blow you over with one breath. You’re too skinny. And stop crying, it looks pathetic.”

She started to throw him an insult, but she stopped because she realized what he was saying and for once didn’t pay attention to how he said it.

“You know what? You may be rude, but you’re right and I can appreciate that. Good to have you back. Enjoy watching NCIS.”

She left him to his show and his food to find a snack and then get some well-needed sleep.


	7. No Good, Know-It-All Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I've finally had time to post a chapter. 
> 
> Big shoutout to Bundyshoes, she's a fellow creator, who did a fabulous job editing these next few chapters. Go check out her page, she has some really fun reads, and don't miss both of us over on FanFiction as well! (If I don't update here, it will be over there.)
> 
> I don't own DBZ.

* * *

Monday morning woke Bulma with the sound of her phone ringing. She glanced over at the clock on her desk. It read 10:00. No wonder she felt so rested, she had slept in past her usual alarm.

_Oh well_, she sighed and answered her phone. “Yes, Krillin?”

“Hey Bulma. So, we just got back from another dragon ball hunt. We got the sixth one yesterday over on Kilimanjaro, not too challenging - although it would have been easier if crocodiles hadn’t been out along the river when we came back down. I will definitely still have teeth marks in a place I don’t want to mention.”

“Wow, how did you manage to provoke crocodiles?”

“Well let’s just say it was easier than climbing the mountain. They took one look at the dragon ball and we were in trouble!”

“Goodness! Gohan’s okay, right?”

“Yeah, he was the one in front without the dragon ball. I was the bait so he could get to our vehicle first.”

“Gotcha.”

“I guess you could say they weren’t from de-Nile. Hehe.”

“Krillin, that joke didn’t land,” but Bulma laughed anyway.

“I know. I still wanted to say Nile.”

“Okay, okay. Anything else to report?”

“No, I don’t…wait yes! We accidently…uh broke the dragon radar. We managed to get what was left of it out of a lion’s mouth, but you will have to repair it. I’m sorry.”

Bulma let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not easy getting those dragon balls. I get it. I guess I’ll come over this afternoon and fix it. You better not tell that oaf Yamcha I’m coming! I don’t want to see his dumb face around when I fix the radar. Got it?”

"Yeah, understood, Bulma. Wait, one more thing!”

“What is it?”

“Tell Vegeta to come with you. I found something on our last trek that I want him to see.”

“Huh, the less I ask about it the better. Easier to convince him to go. Alright. We’ll be over soon.”

“Okay. Wait I forgot to tell you something-"

Bulma hung up on him mid-sentence and began to get ready for the day. She figured if it was important, he could just tell her when she got there. Or text her, no big deal.

She flipped on her light in her bathroom and assessed her looks before jumping right in and getting to work on her bedhead. She washed and polished, plucked and perfected. Her foundation was flawless, her mascara enhanced her already beautiful, long lashes. She straightened her long tresses of cerulean and left it down and flowing at her sides. She loved her long hair and she never intended to so much as trim it. It was her treasure, her greatest possession that she'd owned in her 6 years it took to grow it.

She stopped and assessed her work.

She was perfect. There wasn’t a piece out of place. She was exotic-looking and would always turn heads just by the very color of her hair. She was the daughter of a billionaire scientist who was a genius and taught her just about everything he knew. She could charm just about any room with the personality of her mother, who lit up everywhere she walked, even her plants loved her!

Bulma was the talk of the town with every eligible bachelor in the city. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why, of all the things she was - no matter how perfect she could possibly be, whether it be her looks or personality - she couldn’t keep Yamcha as her boyfriend. It was like the universe just created her to be on display only, never to be anything but admired. She felt like a doll that people enjoyed, but only temporarily.

Never fully loved - just looked at.

In that moment, the injustice of it all flooded her being and she had to force the tears back with everything in her body so she wouldn’t mess up her makeup. Stilling herself with her hands gripping the counter, she looked at herself directly in the mirror, only holding herself together with sheer willpower.

Then she heard a knock at her door.

Bulma hung her head and took a breath. Any lingering feelings were sucked into the bottle that was Bulma’s innermost emotions - they were gone as fast as they came. She glanced in the mirror one more time before leaving the bathroom and answering her door.

Vegeta stood in the doorway, took one glance at her and then looked past into her mess of a room. The subtle rejection of eye contact wasn’t lost on her. It stung, but she ignored it.

“How do you ever find anything in that rat’s nest?”

She huffed angrily. “Just fine, thanks. It’s my mess, I know what’s in it. I’m actually glad you’re here.”

“Oh?” he questioned.

“Yes. Krillin asked for us to meet him at the Kame House. They are only missing one dragon ball at this point, but they broke my radar, and I need to repair it.”

“How am I involved in-"

She held her hand up. He glared at her.

“Just let me finish. Krillin has something to show you. He thinks it might interest you.”

“I need to be training at all daylight hours, woman. This needs to be more than just 'interesting'."

She crossed her arms over her chest, earning his eye contact at last. “Are you coming or not?”

He sighed, “I’ll allow an hour of deviation. No more. It's likely you'll argue with me until I concede anyway.”

“Perceptive, as always. Meet me downstairs by my hovercraft.”

He crossed his arms with a grunt and headed to his room. She gathered her bag and headed down to her vehicle in the aircraft wing of the compound. She gathered a small tool kit to fix the radar and that was when Vegeta made his way towards her and the craft.

“I don’t understand why you insist on using that contraption when you have me. I can fly without a craft. It will be much faster.”

She looked at him, then looked at his arms, which he was holding out to her expectantly. “I, I don’t feel comfortable doing that,” she said, stepping back.

“Tch. Why? You think I’m going to drop you or something to that affect?”

“No…I’m sorry, it’s not that. I don’t…” She trailed off, looking down at the ground with flushed cheeks.

He crossed his arms with a smirk. “You’re embarrassed at the thought of that much contact.”

Her face froze and became an even brighter shade of red. “NO I JUST…Don’t like heights is all.”

“For such a smart woman, you are a decidedly terrible liar. You fly in a craft that takes you several miles from the ground. Why not make it easier and save the fuel?”

She was still flushed, Vegeta noted. This was his favorite pastime. Knocking Bulma down a few pegs on the ego meter. “I’m going to present this argument every time. You know I’m making sense. And I’m not going to dishonor myself by touching you anywhere needlessly. You are safe...safe enough anyway.”

“In nothing but your arms. I don’t know, I don’t even like flying with Goku, he doesn’t know how to be graceful. Like at all,” she said with a weak giggle.

Vegeta walked to stand in front of her now. “I don’t like your hovercraft. Will you make this less difficult and let me fly us over?”

She looked again at his arms. She noted the sincerity in his tone and reached out to him tentatively. He took her by her legs and scooped her up into his arms.

“You take too long.”

“And you’re stubborn as hell,” She said with a glare, winding her arms up around his neck. He touched off the ground, and true to his word, she was safe, even as she unnecessarily gripped him tighter, shielding her eyes with his chest, focusing on ways she was going to fix the radar to calm her down.

By the time they touched down on the little island, Bulma had Vegeta in a death grip and he had to pull her fingers gingerly from his hair, setting her legs down on the ground as delicately as he could manage. She shook as she turned herself away from his chest, thanking the lucky stars in the galaxy that it was over.

“Right, that was…much better than a Goku landing I guess,” She said in a tight voice.

Vegeta gave a smug smile and headed towards the house. “Of course it was.”

She followed quickly behind him. He was about to open the door, but Bulma took him by the wrist, which quickly annoyed him. “Nope. Uh-uh. Gotta do it my way today. Yamcha’s here, and I’m not gonna stumble in there seeing things I don’t wanna see. Believe me, I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. Knock please.”

“If you’ll stop being ridiculous, then fine.” He knocked once. Then again. Before he knocked a third time, he gave a very pointed look to Bulma, to which she shrugged before the door opened. Surprised, Vegeta took a step back as he faced Master Roshi.

“Well hello there, strangers. Long time no see, huh Bulma?” He motioned for them to step inside and were instantly met with a smiling Krillin who gave Bulma a hug. Vegeta found a seat on the couch in the living room, and Bulma took the seat beside him.

“Can I get you anything, guys? Vegeta, don’t get too comfortable, I’m going to take you into the kitchen while Bulma helps us out with the radar and show you what we found.”

“Fine,” Vegeta told him dismissively.

“I could use a glass of water actually, Krillin.”

“One glass from the tap, coming right up.” Krillin went into the kitchen and brought her back a glass. She took a sip, and Roshi sat right down next to her.

“Bulma, it’s been too long. My eyes have missed your lovely, sultry physique.”

She wrinkled her nose at his words. “You know Goku is my best friend. I don’t need to come over as often anymore…Roshi, eyes up here.”

Roshi began to laugh. “Of course I know where your eyes are my dear!”

She rolled her eyes and turned her head to Vegeta, who was giving Roshi his best glare on behalf of the woman. He was a Saiyan elite, and even they had a threshold for vulgar behavior. 

“Some things never change, do they?” She sighed, “You know what, you horny old man? I don’t miss you. At all.”

“Yeh hahaha, sure you do! Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all…” He said as he peered over his glasses to get another not-so-subtle gander at her chest. She gasped and took her glass of water and splashed him in the face. He sputtered and gagged as she remained unwavering in her anger.

“Yeah well familiarity breeds contempt. So, eyes up, pal.”

“Sheesh. The new girl is certainly nicer than you, that’s for sure. You’re hot, but you have some thorns, girl. Hehe.”

“New girl? What are you talking about, Roshi?”

“Uh….oh. Huh, this is probably going to get interesting.”

Right after Roshi finished his sentence, Yamcha appeared. In tow, was a heavily contoured, heavily chested woman, looking to be around Bulma’s age, emerging from the room behind them.

“You know what, Krillin? I’m gonna follow you guys into the kitchen. Better to work without any…distractions.” Bulma instantly stood and walked towards the kitchen, not even sparing another glance to the scene before her. She was here for one thing. 

That's it.

Krillin hastily took in the situation and motioned for Vegeta and Bulma to step into the other room, leaving Roshi to gawk at Yamcha’s new lady friend as they chatted.

Bulma sat down, and both men tensed up around her as they took their own seats. Vegeta understood enough about Earthling social interaction by now and knew it would be best to avoid this situation and investigate Krillin’s discovery.

Krillin looked at his friend with sad eyes. “I tried to tell you on the phone. I wanted to warn you, but-"

Bulma took a breath before speaking. “It’s fine, Krillin. I get it. Let’s get right to business - the dragon balls are way more important than whose thighs are around my ex’s face.”

Krillin snorted and Vegeta raised his eyebrows at her vulgarity.

“That’s a girl, Bulma. Here, see what you can do.”

“I can do anything, Krillin. It’s my invention after all. You guys sure did a number on it though,” she said, assessing the damage.

He chuckled, before pulling out his discovery for Vegeta. “Does this look familiar?”

Vegeta took the artifact with both hands, examining the piece carefully. If the discovery was impressing him, he hid any reaction behind his hand. “It has my planet’s crest on it. It looks like a piece of armor…” he twisted it this way and that way, trying to decide the positioning on the body.

“I can analyze it when we get home. I'll scan it and the data will tell me where it would have served the best purpose,” Bulma said, not looking up from her work once.

Vegeta continued to appraise the material. It had to have been centuries old. The faded gold and red sent a shiver down Vegeta’s back.

“I found it in a cave in Africa. We took refuge for a little while and, when I kicked over a log, there it was. Whatever was with it was probably buried there, but I wasn’t exactly prepared to start an excavation, you know? Anyways, I hope it sparks some thoughts about the past like it did for me. Maybe your people came to earth a long time ago and settled here. Who knows?”

Vegeta pounded his fist on the table, making Bulma and Krillin jump. “I will never know. My planet, it’s gone now, every last trace, other than me, Kakarot, and this piece of debris.”

Krillin shrugged. “You never know, Vegeta. Maybe the dragon balls could do something for you, like the Namekians?”

“Do not plant hope where there is none, baldy.” Vegeta spat.

“Sheesh. Okay, whatever you say.” Krillin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

Vegeta looked over to Bulma and her work. “Are you almost finished, woman?”

“Yes. Just using my soldering pen to fuse these two wires…._ aaaand_ done.”

The three heard the gadget beep to life, flashing four times before locking onto its next coordinate.

“Amazing. You really are a genius, Bulma. I’ll call Gohan back over as soon as he can get free of his mother.”

Bulma dropped the gadget into Krillin’s open palm. “There. If you have any more problems, feel free to _bring_ _them over_.” Krillin followed her gaze into the living room and understood the reason for her emphasis. Yamcha was such a moron. He nodded silently and she walked back out into the living room, hands in her skirt pockets, Vegeta in tow.

He handed her his artifact, before being stopped by Roshi. “Listen, boy. If she manages to let you under that skirt, let me know if it was worth all the trouble her temper makes her!”

“Get out of my way, you foolish old man!” Vegeta yelled, already wanting to be back home.

Yamcha just stared at Bulma. She gave him a shrug and smirked. “Bye,” was all Bulma said to him as she walked out of the house. Vegeta cocked his eyebrow at Yamcha, but he quickly gave his own smirk and followed behind the woman.

Bulma was outside, leaning against the house for support, the threat of slipping down quickly approaching as she felt herself fall apart away from prying eyes. No one could see her break down from her side of the house. No one until Vegeta caught her.

“Little actress.”

Her breath hitched. “No, not you - anyone but you.”

“I know you would rather me see you than Yamcha.”

She started wiping her cheeks even as fresh tears spilled over her hands. “True.”

“You almost had me fooled that you couldn’t care less that the weakling had a whore on his arm.”

She let out a wail. “That…that…BASTARD!”

Vegeta sighed and grabbed her hand. Bulma fought him until he pulled her up with force.

“Stop sniveling. Rather to dodge the bullet than bite it. It can always be worse.”

She had no patience for his callous words of wisdom. “Oh yeah, tough guy? How?”

“You could’ve been mated and then he decided to waver from you.”

This made her quiet as she processed what he told her. She said the first thing that came to her head.

“Were you in a similar situation then?”

“What? No, silly woman. I was only a boy when I was taken from my palace. I grew up separated from the normal saiyan rhythms of life. Frieza saw to that when he destroyed my world and killed the royal family. My father - executed. My mother, last time I heard, was beheaded for refusing to service Frieza as his concubine.”

“You’re telling me this to prove it could be so much worse, right? Because you win, okay? I just wanted one minute of weakness. I’m sorry. Terribly sorry for your immense loss,” Bulma hugged her arms around her frame tighter.

He grabbed her and picked her up, holding her close to his chest as he began to walk in the direction of West City, and bent down gently before ascending into the air. Bulma held fast to the artifact, tucking it into her jacket.

Yamcha had walked outside to the view of Vegeta cradling Bulma in his arms as he flew them home. He could do nothing but watch them go, no words to be exchanged. Was Vegeta…with Bulma? No. He couldn’t be. Bulma wouldn’t get mixed up with him. He was dangerous. She wouldn’t do that, knowing Vegeta had a hand in his death. Yamcha wanted to apologize, ask questions, and get answers, but he would never get that chance. Not today anyway, he decided. He walked back inside the house to his housemates and guest after some time of contemplation.

“I’ve gotten over it. I don’t need your pity… And there’s no time for moments of weakness. They only serve to distract and impede. I’ve since learned to block it out,” he told her as he flew.

She nodded dumbly and gripped her hands around his neck, this time being careful not to grab for his hair.

“Wow. This is the most I’ve gotten to know about you, and so far, I can already see why you’re angry all the time.”

“Hmph.”

After some time and distance were covered, she started a new conversation. She was talking into his chest, but he could hear every word.

“I’ve never really been with anyone other than Yamcha. He was my first in pretty much everything. Except like, actual sex though. Maybe that’s why he’s always trying to get some, because I never gave it up completely. But anyways, He was a desert bandit when I met him. He obviously became a lot tamer now, but he wasn’t always like this. He changed and I guess this is a part of it. But what I don’t get, and please don’t judge me too harshly for saying this, but I’m beautiful, and rich, not to mention I have a genius IQ level. How is that not enough? How is that not enough _for him_?”

He stopped midair and looked into her eyes to see if she was being serious. Her eyes held tears in them, waiting to spill yet again down her face. It seemed like this issue was out of her realm of comprehension, even though she had pointed out her intelligence. Her problem was that she wasn’t assessing the right problem. This woman was in desperate need of a spine when it came to mating confidence.

“Woman, if you keep measuring your wealth in the span of the arms of a man, you’re going to short yourself every single time. If he doesn’t want you, he simply doesn’t want you. And you shouldn’t give a damn. Watch what happens when you leave that idiot alone. Unfortunately, I’m afraid it’s going to work and he’s going to be right back here under my nose,” he said, scowling.

She blinked in surprise. “You…you really think that will happen?”

He raised his eyebrow at her, internally questioning her sanity. Why on Earth would she want that idiot back with them? “This is ridiculous. I’m not telling you these things to entertain your self-delusional fantasies.”

Her features broadcasted she was confused, which further fed Vegeta’s ire. He cleared his throat in irritation. “Think on the former half of what I told you. Not…the latter part. Know what you’re worth, woman, because no one is going to accurately tell you the amount. Know what you’re capable of and apply that in a bond, or relationship…whatever you call it. No one can take that away from you with any amount of force. And besides, your value is immensely more…appealing to appraise than witnessing what your sniveling nose does when you ball your eyes out over some idiot.”

She remembered how he phrased things and made the translation from asshole to well-meaning with ease. “Wow! Thanks, Vegeta! That…that makes me feel a lot better. You really know how to sweet talk a gal with your wise words,” she said with a wink. He continued his flight as she clung to him gently, and he did his best to face away from her. He felt the need to hide his burning cheeks as she praised him.

“Yeah, well if it gets you to shut up and drop him for good, I’ll say that I was proud of you for turning your nose to the idiot and his trollop today.”

She grinned. “Gee! Thank you! I wanted to cry so bad and scratch her eyes out, but I think I was really classy in just turning my heel like I did!” She was so happy in that moment, she forgot they were several meters in the air.

“Well, if you keep that up, they’ll be bowing to you in no time, I’m sure.” He meant for his words to be sarcastic, but he assumed they came out more genuine than he intended, because she let out a sound of excitement.

“Hell yeah! That will be a welcomed change. Princess-no. Queen Bulma. You like the sound of that? I know I sure do.” She said smiling to herself and, as she shifted in his arms, she remembered with clarity just where she was. She let out a startled yelp and grabbed for his hair on the back of his neck again, causing him to flinch.

“Stop pulling back there! Knock it off, woman!”

“But, I, I’m too high!”

He held her tighter to his body, crushing her with the force. She gagged and pushed against him and that had been enough. He stopped flying a second time and held her out above the water by her arms. “Stop squirming or I’ll let go.”

She looked down below and her eyes nearly bugged from her skull at their current height. “Fine! Fine! I’ll calm down! I’m calm,” She exclaimed with earnest, trying to prove her words by holding as still as humanly possible.

“Very well.” He cradled her close to his body again, this time holding her firmly with no room for her to wriggle or squirm. “Wow, no complaining this time. I’m impressed, woman.”

She gave no reply.

“Bulma?”

She didn’t hear him because the whole ordeal had her so light-headed that she had passed out. He could feel how limp she was in his arms and he rolled his eyes. Figures.

She had her hands in her lap now, no longer clinging onto him like a monkey to a tree branch. It made the rest of the journey easier. Somewhere along the way, her face settled into a small smile, and Vegeta watched her sleep. She stayed this way for a while, and when they touched down on compound grounds, he decided he didn’t dislike her. At least not as much as he used to. He was still finding tolerance in her slowly as he laid her body down on her bed, even taking it a step further by taking her shoes off and pulling her covers over her sleeping form. He placed the artifact next to her on her desk. She would see it when she finally woke up. What she wouldn’t see was the small smile that crept on his face that afternoon as he left to resume his training.

Every chance she got (in between projects of course) Bulma spent trying to lure Vegeta into telling her more about his people - primarily more about their technology, but then also more about their foods and how they compared to Earth foods. She also wanted to know more about the environment that made his planet so hot and even about the language (she had secret recordings of his curses and other intelligible words he would utter in the gravity room while he trained).

He trained every day, from 5am to lunch time, and then he would finally allow himself to finish for the day at 6pm. Plenty of opportunity to study him…for scientific purposes of course. She cataloged as much as she could accurately account without annoying or interrupting his training. It was now a year and a half until the androids were told to make their presence known on Earth, and he needed to be as ready as he possibly could be. Which meant a stronger room, better and smarter bots, and plenty of food to be made by none other than Panchy Briefs, Bulma’s ditzy but enduringly sweet mother. There was enough work cut out for the both of them that usually resulted in them crashing into bed and falling asleep instantly in the evening - except when Bulma was feeling extra curious and would invite her alien guest to coffee or wine, hoping to start an informative conversation with the prince.

“What does anrak…chite.. manrena mean?” Bulma asked out of nowhere.

Vegeta almost spat his coffee out across the table. “What? How-”

“What does it mean?” She asked again, taking a long sip from her mug.

He sat on his stool; words stolen from him with her inquiry. He was increasingly feeling hostile, mouth fixed in a thin line. “Answer my question first, woman. How do you know those words?”

Bulma shifted her eyes to the bowl of fruit on the kitchen table, very interested in it at that particular moment. “I heard you.”

“Where… specifically, woman?”

She became increasingly more apprehensive as she knew it was from a place she wasn’t meant to be when he was there. “The Gravity Room. There are cameras in there, for security purposes. My feed is usually live from my lab… to monitor any malfunctions in real time, in case the room short circuits, or worse…”

He stared her down, suspicions of her intentions still present in his form. “Why does the feed need audio?” He asked.

“Because its purpose is to provide feedback, if needed.”

“Why have I never known about this function? Since I’m the only one using it for its purpose?”

Her eyes were fixated on the fruit bowl. Her mouth drew downwards into a frown.

“I don’t want that audio to be disclosed and since you’ve been listening in, I want to know why you haven’t told me about it. Look at me, woman.”

Her eyes shifted to his after a beat, “If I tell you, will you tell me what the words meant? I know it’s in your language. It’s pure curiosity. I have no intentions to use it against you, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

He only remained silent and held her eye contact.

She sighed. “You usually tell me if it needs improvement, there’s no need for the feedback communication. I just use it to be nosey. ‘Cause I am a curious person…. Who heard you say words in another language ages ago, and I wanted to hear more, to learn more about you… Does that not sound believable?”

He murmured something under his breath, something too soft for her to hear. He spoke up after some hesitation. “Anrak chite _mahrena_. Not manrena. The reason I was so surprised before…was because you were cursing me. And you don’t even know what the hell you’re saying. It translates to “fuck it’s mother” in Sayianesi, or in English, it would be “motherfucker”."

She blushed profusely at his explanation. “No one is supposed to know Saiyanesi, other than those of Saiyan decent. It’s known to be extinct to other species. But currently, that doesn’t matter. All my people are dead, so…if an Earth woman ends up knowing a couple useless words here and there, I suppose it doesn’t hurt anything. And I’m being serious, you don’t utter anything to anyone that isn’t Saiyan. Kakarot and his brat don’t count either. If I catch them speaking Saiyanesi to me, I will end you.”

She smiled at him and nodded profusely. “Mahr’s vho versi.” (_mums the word._)

Vegeta blinked a couple times, not sure if he was more astonished at her nonsense phrasing, or that she could understand enough of his language to interpret what she says. Damn her. He narrowed his eyes at her. “I mean it, you utter my words in front of anyone that isn’t me, and you will wish you hadn’t! What did you even say?”

“I said that I’ll basically keep your secret,” she winked.

Vegeta chose to say nothing and took a sip of his mug to hide his reddening cheeks.

No good, nosey, Know-it-all woman. 


	8. Gadgets, Gizmos, and Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night! We have been quite busy. 
> 
> Once again, shoutout to my awesome editor, Bundyshoes, for her hard work. She is a gem!
> 
> Without further ado, here's another jam-packed chapter.
> 
> I don't own this stuff. It's Toei's.

* * *

It was Friday at Capsule Corp. Vegeta distinctly remembered this day as the very day the woman had done something to affront him so severely, he wanted to pull apart his gravity chamber piece by piece simply to spite her and then make her put each and every metal frame and screw back together again with pain-staking precision so that she would understand with perfect clarity the meaning of the word _misery_. It’d been a week since she hid herself away in her lab and burrowed into her various projects and, despite Vegeta trying to forget, his mind continued to play the memories on repeat without mercy.

Bulma was enjoying her salad in the kitchen when she heard a knock at the front door. She groaned as she stood to answer it, wondering who it could be as she went to answer. Someone from the office? Maybe something family-related…or maybe Goku finally remembered to knock instead of landing in the back yard unannounced. She laughed to herself at the last guess, but as she opened the door, she found that she was wrong on every prediction. It was Yamcha.

Vegeta could hear them arguing all the way from the doors to the gravity chamber. Hands already formed into fists, he slid open the glass door leading to the kitchen, trying not to crack it this time, hoping to go by unnoticed on his latest quest to raid the fridge. Just a couple sandwiches. That’s all he wanted. Well...that and some peace and quiet.

That notion was completely dashed at the sound of Bulma stridently shrieking in the living room.

“Listen here, Yamcha! I have HAD it with all your late night gallivants to the clubs, hanging with whomever fits your fancy for the night! Having to hear it from _Krillin_ \- guiltily telling me about your latest excursion - makes me feel like a fool and _honestly_, I’m ready to give you the freedom you so desperately crave!” 

“Honest to Kai, Bulma, I’ve only been out with a couple girls since we took our break, babe. I didn’t actually sleep with any of them, just took them out for a good time is all.” Yamcha made a grab for her waist, which she promptly swatted his hands away from.

Vegeta made a grab for the items to make his sandwiches within the fridge, inwardly groaning at the two quarreling in the next room. Looks like peace and quiet would without a doubt evade him yet again. But, fuck it. They weren’t keeping him from his food, damn it.

“Alright, you might be an idiot, but I’m not. Call it woman’s intuition, or whatever. But I KNOW you aren’t being honest with me and I’m so fucking tired of this.”

“Bulma, you have no proof, then! So, you’re falsely accusing me of lying to you and, unless you have proof, I won’t concede. I haven’t slept with anyone, honest. Made out? Sure. But none of them compared to you, Bulma Olivia Briefs. I only want you, B, forever.”

Bulma had anger etched in her features from the very first moment he entered the compound. Now they had twisted to confusion and shock when he bent down on one knee. She took Vegeta’s advice and ignored the man, and here he was, practically begging at her feet.

“I…I’m speechless.”

_That’s a first_, Vegeta thought from the table, working his way through his third ham, swiss, and mayo on rye. This change in mood slightly aroused suspicion in the Saiyan, as he tried to twist his neck around the corner and into the living room, he saw the weakling with some sort of box in his outstretched hand and the woman with her hand covering her mouth. Humans were so strange and…irritating. Vegeta then saw him open it and saw a tiny glittering object contained inside_. A jewel? Hn. The woman obnoxiously wears enough of those things to render this little gift pointless,_ he smirked.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes, Bulma. Make me the happiest man in the entire galaxy”

Vegeta almost choked on this food as he valiantly fought to keep his laughter to himself. This was rich. Almost worth enduring their latest onslaught of melodramatic theater.

Bulma paused and almost said her choice. But she wasn’t about to be deterred from confirming her suspicions. Even as he bent down in front of her, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She knew how to fix that. “Before I give my response…show me your phone.”

“Wh..what?”

Bulma’s eyebrow twitched upwards, planting yet another scowl on her lips. “You heard me, Yamcha. If you truly want to marry me, I must know you’re being honest with me. If you have nothing to hide, you’ll be glad to show me proof.”

Yamcha slowly stood up and took his phone from his pocket. He wavered for the first time in their altercation.

Bulma sensed it immediately. “What’s the problem? Hand it over and prove to me I’m the only girl you want to be with, you idiot.”

Yamcha’s mouth was set in a hard line, he couldn’t meet her eyes now. “No. I don’t need to do that. That’s a breach of privacy, Bulma!”

“Not if you’re wanting to make me your future wife! Now show me your phone!” Bulma was back up at full volume, much to Vegeta’s annoyance. That moron she wasted her time on can’t do anything right. Like keep her satisfied and quiet. And keep his ears from bleeding from her ceaseless screeching. Vegeta heard the woman begin to laugh bitterly now. “This really is the pinnacle for you Yamcha. You couldn’t even be bothered to erase anything before you came, could you? Didn’t think I would ask before you acted on your plans to marry me? Wouldn’t want to lose girl #3’s number by mistake.”

Bulma was beyond livid at this point, her body was quaking with fury, she could feel her cool demeanor slipping towards the floor, along with her shattering heart. “Get out,” she said simply.

Yamcha knew he couldn’t recover from his hesitation. She would see his phone and he would be just as guilty as if he hadn’t. Nothing too bad, but there were flirtatious female interactions. He could only hang his head and make for the front door in silent shame.

As he was leaving, he heard the Saiyan in the kitchen stifling his laughter. He angrily made his way into the room to face the prince. “You have some nerve, laughing when I’m trying to have a serious moment with the love of my life!”

“Ugh, you sound so pathetic. If there was anything to be suspicious of in a male, it’s when he uses excessive amounts of hyperbole. Either you’re too immature, or you’re lying. Now I believe the woman told you to leave.”

Yamcha crossed his arms in anger. “This is ridiculous. I never even touched anyone while I’ve been with Bulma. And even while we were on break, I never so much as got to second base. I’ve been clean ever since Veronica a week ago.”

Vegeta stood up and strode over to the man casually. “Are you certain? I can smell you from here, that has to be the day-old smell of a dozen females, it’s quite obvious that you are lying to me now. I hate liars, and I’ve killed for much less offenses.”

When Vegeta crossed his arms and gave his signature glare, Yamcha couldn’t remotely hold a candle to the prince’s ire. Yamcha shifted uncomfortably at his gaze, but still felt indignant. “When I’m out, there’s usually a lot of girls too, I’m not saying I had sex with any of them! Bulma, you have to listen to me!” He crossed the floor back to the living room where Bulma now sat on in a chair, holding her face in her hands. Her lap was wet with tears. Yamcha stood in front of her. “I’ve changed. Okay? I came today to prove I was done with holding out and I was ready to get serious from now on, Bulma. Can you judge someone who has tried to come and ask for acceptance?”

“Actually, there is a crucial part of this whole ordeal. You forgot the part where you got down on your knees to beg for mercy.” Vegeta said. He joined the two in the living room, squaring off with Yamcha. Vegeta decided he had had enough of this fool coming into his dwelling place, assaulting his presence with his filthy, lowly persistence. This wasn’t the first time they had quarreled, but it would be the last if he could help it. If Yamcha wanted acceptance, he should be given what he deserved. A swift kick in the ass.

Yamcha faced Vegeta squarely, hands now balled into tight fists at his sides. “You think I’m going to let you treat me like this? This is between me and Bulma anyway, this is probably too beneath you or some bullshit like that, right... _Prince V_egeta?” Yamcha all but spat his title at him.

Vegeta raised his palm and willed it to light with blue ki, cocking his eyebrow and scowling angrily at the warrior. “You DARE mock _ME_, the Prince of all Saiyans, with my rightful namesake? Have you absolutely no sense left in that weak skull of yours!? No, I suppose you don’t. You came skulking back here, after those worthless whores you were acquainting yourself proved tiresome and decided you did in fact have a richer palate. So guess what? I’m about to blast you back through that front door, out into the yard, and down the street. Then you will be begging ME for forgiveness and _thanking_ me for the privilege of living after I kick your sorry ass!"

“I wasn’t here for a fight!”

“Well you got one, you pathetic slag!” Vegeta roared as he gave Yamcha a taste of his fury. The room sparked with ki as Yamcha was propelled through the door, as promised.

This had Bulma out of her chair in an instant.

She was trying her best to blend into the room, not wanting to be involved in the fight. However, that was before the door was blown off its hinges. Someone was gonna pay for that.

Vegeta and Yamcha were now postured aggressively on the front lawn, both ready for the first strike.

“HEY!” Bulma attempted to call out to them, but she was flagrantly ignored.

The two fighters were each preparing an attack and Vegeta’s looked immensely more intimidating.

“MY NEIGHBORS DON’T NEED TO SEE MY EX AND MY ALIEN HOUSEMATE BLASTING ONE ANOTHER INTO THE DIRT!”

“Bulma, just go inside!” Yamcha shouted.

“Yes woman, this will be over sooner than you can say Saibamen.” Vegeta was seconds from launching his menacing ki at Yamcha, when Bulma boldly made her way in the middle of them. Vegeta’s eyes widened in surprise as she stood facing him, her face pulled into an intimidatory glower, hands planted firmly on her hips.

“NO. WOMAN MOVE NOW OR BE EVISORATED.”

“NO.” She stood her ground.

“HE WILL PAY FOR HIS INSOLENCE!!”

In the blink of an eye, Bulma made a very important decision when she calmed the prince. She chose to distract him in the most jarring way possible. This was the only way she knew she could effectively stop the fight with extreme prejudice.

And it certainly got his attention. She stood in front of Vegeta, not afraid of the power radiating from his form. Bulma took his face in her palms and pulled him down to plant her lips over his. He stared at her, stupefied by her audacity and choice of tactic.

Yamcha was also dumbfounded, not believing what he was witnessing. “B-Bulma?”

She ignored Yamcha and focused all of her attention on the kiss she was giving to Vegeta, who was still stricken with surprise. Her lips moved against his, gripping him with everything she could manage, pouring every bit of passion into the gesture to ensure he was indisposed. She pulled away first, glaring at him as she did. She stuck her chin in the air, looking up at him defiantly. “I said, no. It’s not worth it.”

The moment was over as fast as it began and Bulma took advantage of his surprise to rush back inside, sneaking one look over her shoulder at Yamcha, who was wide-eyed and appeared to still be reeling.

Vegeta composed himself slowly and, as he did, Yamcha took note and quickly made his escape. Vegeta stood on the lawn, more confused than angry at this point. He was stuck between wanting to rip throats out and wanting to question the woman. Did she know what she just did? She challenged him. If he remembered correctly, that was a part of a certain Saiyan tradition that involved a Saiyan woman and a Saiyan man laying claim to one another in their first fights for dominance. A claim that led to mating - and _bonding_. He looked up into the sky, where Yamcha had made his escape and smiled. Things just got interesting.

As soon as she was inside, Bulma had pent up so much of her rage, she couldn’t contain it anymore. She gave out a frustrated shriek, fists balled and knuckles white. Her eyes quickly spanned the room for something to throw. Anything. Her mother’s old vase was her final choice and it immediately connected with the wall with a loud crash, right as Vegeta had marched back inside.

He stood in the foyer as she collapsed to her knees, crying at last. It had startled him, as he thought she was going to try to attack him or something equally ridiculous. His face settled with reverence for the little female’s tantrum. It was quite the show. “You sure showed him, woman. That vase is shattered to fine grains, shame it couldn’t have served a better purpose. Like being thrown at the weak human you were so keen on keeping around.”

Bulma seethed at his taunt. “Fuck off Vegeta. So not in the mood. You only take pleasure out of seeing me miserable anyway, “she sulked as she slowly made herself sit on the carpet. She was still visibly upset and couldn’t lift her head to show him her naked pain, so she swept under her eyes a few times in an attempt to erase the proof of her weakness before the prince could exploit it.

“Yes, I do. Especially if it’s aimed at that pathetic excuse for a warrior. What earth custom was he performing, anyway? He put himself in such a vulnerable position, I wanted to blast him for showing such flagrant disgraceful conduct.”

Bulma got up and walked as calmly as she could manage to sit on the sofa in front of him. She focused hard on her breathing, keeping it as even as humanly possible, knowing that her verbal sparring partner would be prodding at any wound of her's at a moment’s notice. “That was an attempt to perform a matrimonial…. rite of passage, if you will.”

The look on Vegeta’s face illustrated that he didn’t grasp the concept. She gave a long sigh.

“Matrimonial…” he began, as if this was the first time testing out the word on his tongue.

She gave a noise of affirmation. “Yes, two people becoming one, essentially. There’s a ring, a ceremony, a certificate showing proof of the coupling, you understand that kind of thing, don’t you?”

Vegeta sat down next to her on the couch and crossed his arms. “Yes, Saiyan culture has something of the same function. But it is much more personal. And it is not called a ‘marriage’. It is called mating. This requires two Saiyans to come together intimately and they proceed to, what’s the phrase…have sexual relations. During this interaction, they bite one another in the neck region, leaving a permanent mark. This then initiates the mating bond, which is the closest two Saiyans can ever be to one another. This will remain until one of them dies. The other will carry out the remainder of their days mate-less. They will never take another mate and this will slowly cause their mental state to deteriorate until they succumb to what is called “ihmoyornramal” which literally translates to ‘in death you love’, in Saiyan.”

To say Bulma was stunned would be an understatement. Her anger was momentarily forgotten as she processed this new information. This was probably the most he had ever iterated to her in a single conversation. He seemed to love talking about his culture and where he came from, so she would continue to indulge him, her intrigue piqued. “Wow, I’m actually finding myself fascinated by this practice. Scientifically of course. What occurs in the ‘mating bond’?”

Vegeta gave her a huff in response. She watched as his arms wrapped even tighter across his chest, visibly flustered by her choice in query. She almost apologized and told him he didn’t have to answer, but she guessed he wanted to humor her. It was genuine curiosity after all, the chance to understand a near-extinct alien race too valuable to pass up. He already had endured her previous questionings throughout the week, and this was no different.

“The Saiyan mating bond is sacred. It is where the physical meets mental and emotional unity. This is the highest connection that can be created between two individuals. And that is the extent of my knowledge, never having formed a connection myself as I have never been mated, like I told you previously. As fate would have it, I left my planet before any of that could be remotely set in place for me when I would eventually ascend the throne in my father’s place. Before my planet was blown to bits by a malicious tyrant hellbent on ensuring I was denied all my liberties and sent me on challenge-less missions that would guarantee I would never manage to avenge my father and my people.” His last words landed with such weight and anguish that her heart broke for him.

Her eyes held so much emotion for him in that moment that he had to quickly lower his eyes to look at something on the floor. “I don’t want your pity, so if that’s what you feel, you can stop.”

She shook her head. “No, not pity, it’s sympathy. Wouldn’t it be weird if I had a smile on my face?” She asked him, to provide some levity.

He shot her a scowl, before turning away from her again, as if he wasn’t comfortable with his next thought. “It is said that when initiating the mating ritual, the woman will challenge her potential mate in a sort of standoff. She will show her interest by defying him in combat and dare him to answer said challenge.”

She felt her heart rate pick up when she realized what he was saying. Adrenalin was coursing through her as she recalled the last hour’s events.

She had only _kissed_ him; she didn’t mean anything by it but to momentarily _distract _him from killing Yamcha on the front lawn.

But according to his customs that he just described, she did something much more than she could have anticipated. “Vegeta, I kissed you to get you to spare Yamcha…”

He shifted his gaze to her now, the eye contact intense and accusatory. “You challenged my decision to kill him, Bulma. You kissed me and then tempted me to answer your challenge which, I’ll admit, is perplexing. What are you challenging me with, woman? Are you daring me to answer?” His eyes bore into hers, and she felt her heart flip in her chest with the intensity.

“You…you don’t have to answer it.” She said, sounding hesitant.

This is when he allowed himself to look deeper into her eyes. What he found there was nothing surprising, as this was something he understood…. fear.

“No, I suppose I don’t have to.”

“Then it’s settled. You’re free to act how you wish, I won’t hold you to your customs. I…we should go get some sleep.” She made to stand, but he grabbed her hand.

“Wait,” he told her. He pulled her back down to sit next to him again, raising his hand to her cheek, lightly caressing it. “Emotions are a weakness, so don’t get too comfortable with me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do this,” he told her as he inched closer to her, eyes dropping to her lips. He could hear her heartbeat now, like it was his own. It was beating faster and faster and, as he brought his lips over hers, it was drowned out by the sensation of his lips on hers.

She closed her eyes and relished in the feelings she felt for him, finally allowing them to be acknowledged for the first time. She knew it in that moment. She knew she was falling for him past the point of no return and it had her shaken to the core, because whatever she felt, he would never be able to meet her there.

Even as he deepened their kiss, she knew this was the end before it could ever begin. Vegeta wasn’t a man who could own up to such feelings. Not enough to satisfy her. Whatever he could possibly feel for her, it would always pale in comparison to his main objectives. This caused her to pull back from him, in which he responded by settling his hands on her hips. She swallowed tightly, her arousal was quickly rising to the forefront and he was already picking up on this because he was pulling her onto his chest, forcing her to straddle his hips, kisses hot and passionate.

Bulma swirled her tongue around his when he let her in past his lips, caressing him and biting his bottom lip while he reached for her sweater, pulling it up and over her head. Her breath hitched and she picked up her pace again. Her biting and teasing was whipping him into a frenzy, hiking up speed as he kissed her, deeper and deeper, no longer letting her lead. She felt her control slip, and she knew that her window to stop was closing with every tug at her shirt. He was cupping her breasts over her shirt now, getting himself ready to tear her out of her clothes and take her right there on her couch.

She regained some control when she started to hold his face gently, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs, recognizing she needed to stop what they were doing, or someone was going to regret it and likely it would be her, since it would be her own downfall at the breaking of her heart. He paused before his emotions could catch him off guard further and take him over, which is where Bulma came in with one last kiss, cradling his face and pouring every final ounce of care and affection for him she could manage to give as she started to pull away from his body. She could feel tears prickle in the corners of her eyes, feeling sad as she felt this was their last kiss. She paused and stared into his eyes with such intensity, he couldn’t look away.

They remained like this, her leaning on his chest, them breathing each other in for a few moments, before Bulma picked herself up off him. She still held his eye contact as she picked up her sweater from the floor. “I have to stop. I can’t…you’re only gonna hurt me. I’m sorry.” She tore her eyes away from his before she could start to cry, quickly making her way upstairs, not daring to look back.

He laid there for a time, processing what had just transpired, what she had said as she left. He touched his cheek, where Bulma had been holding him. He distantly remembered the sensation when his mother would hold his face gently in her own hands when he was nothing but a child. He shook his head free of the memory and stood quickly, rage building inside of him as he tried to fight the burning of his unsatisfied desire. He wanted her and she wanted him. Why did she have to complicate that? 

Bulma heard him open and close the door to his room across the hall several minutes later. Feeling her heart slow its pace, she slowly fell off to sleep.

Vegeta lay awake in his bed, chastising himself for thinking it was smart to show how much their altercation in the yard affected him. How much she affected him. He figured this would all be forgotten soon enough, like nothing ever happened. But something was chewing on him inside, and he couldn’t stop feeling her lips on his, torturing him with their softness. Feeling her rising chest on his when they were kissing on the couch.

He felt his instincts telling him that she was a worthy opponent, although she was weaker than any race he had encountered.

He thought back to her pulse. He could sense her heart racing and it exhilarated him more than he ever wanted to admit. Whatever it was that he felt, he knew she wasn’t immune. This would be interesting indeed.

That is, if he chose to answer her call, accidental or no.

He tossed and turned that night, thinking about nothing more than that woman and what they discussed. He thought back to what she had told him, about continuing his race without Saiyans, but humans instead. They were compatible as far as he could see. His evidence was Kakarot and his woman, and they had made a quite capable offspring from what he could tell. He stopped trying to get sleep and put his arms behind his head. Would it make a difference? Would he actually consider taking her up on her challenge after all? She was capable, she wasn’t with that idiot fighter anymore, since he couldn’t keep his hands to himself…and Vegeta was more than capable of doing that. He hated humans, they were aggravating to him even on a good day, so if the opportunity presented itself… with her in mind, he could make something of their relationship, potentially. They would make some of the smartest and strongest prodigies in the history of Saiyans, or humans for that matter. She could teach them important subjects like math and science and to be vastly intelligent like her, and he could teach them combat and tactics and to be strong like him…the combination would rival any forces in the galaxy. Raising their young would be a hassle of course. But for the sake of his people, he felt a longing deep inside him. Stronger than his need to fight Kakarot for once.

This was actually taking precedence in his mind and it made sense! _Why is that_, he wondered. Maybe he was spending too much time on Earth. But logically where else could he go? It didn’t make sense to go to another planet when the woman supplied him with everything he could ever need. He also gave her things he didn’t think he needed, like company. He didn’t hate drinking coffee with her at midnight. He didn’t hate their bickering, he liked that she could keep up with him. He didn’t have to tell his mind to cease its ponderings, because he had already drifted to sleep.

He trains and when he leaves the gravity room, there isn’t a trace of the woman anywhere in the main compound. This has been the eighth day since she confronted him, kissed him senselessly and then ran away from him, without so much of a quip or one-liner. Not that Vegeta minds this initially, but he’s gotten used to her annoying him with her chirpy voice, spouting off some nonsense about her latest project, or Kakarot and his merry band of defective warriors. After what she shared with him several nights ago, he was frustrated, but mildly. The few times where she doesn’t completely grate his nerves is when things involve him and his interests, like the gravity chamber, the training bots, or food. Even though he enjoys her new change in habit by staying away from him so he can focus, it actually starts to bother him just as much as her presence. Which he also finds annoying, because he’s struggling to decide if he can stand for her absence over her presence.

And this is dangerous thinking for him. He doesn’t need anyone’s company, especially hers. As he thinks this, he realized his hand has unconsciously reached up to rest on his lips.

He remembers her kisses. Even if he had all the focus in the universe, which he has tried to harness many times over the course of the past week, this memory would remain prevalent many times during his routine.

And it infuriated him to no end. He thought it was crass and unrefined that she would decide that she should brashly stand in front of him, in the middle of combat no less. To… defend her? No. Never. And then have her partially give into him after the altercation between him and that idiot Yamcha…

As he worked out his complicated thoughts, a bot came out of nowhere and blasted his left side with its laser, cutting deep through his armor and into his skin, causing him to cry in outrage. He refocused his thoughts and with perfect focus, he reduced the bot to a pile of frying parts. Still angry, he went on a rampage, destroying all 15 of the bots in a matter of seconds.

_Hn_, he thought to himself. _If these training bots were state-of-the-art, like the woman claimed, they wouldn’t have been obliterated so quickly._ Well, he would have her remedy this. He decided to pay his personal engineer a visit, finally after several days. He knew where she was keeping herself. He didn’t even need to seek her energy. It was the only place he hadn’t allowed himself to go, since he didn’t want to convey that he was actively seeking her out. But now that he had a tangible reason to locate her, he went without faltering. The woman thinks she’s so clever and sneaky, that she can avoid his presence by squirreling herself away in that lab. He smirked to himself as he headed towards the hallway that lead to the woman’s location.

He went to open the door and found himself face-to-face with a note on the large metal door. He froze when he saw that the writing was addressed to him, and he snatched the note from the door.  
  
_Vegeta, _  
  
_You weren’t subtle when you blew up those bots. I have been working on a very special project as of late, and I know for a fact you won’t be breaking these any time soon. These are of the very latest technology. They’ve been in trial testing for months, but I think it’s finally time to let you use them. I left detailed notes on how to operate them, so that even you can interpret the instructions ; ) these aren’t bots, they are called drones, and you’ll discover just how impressive they are within one training session, I’m certain. Anyway, hope you’re healthy and sleeping properly. I’m trying to._  
  
-B

Confound it! He yanked the door open angrily stomped his way into the lab, but as soon as he observed the room, he saw what the woman was referring to, and he almost felt astonished. The room was filled with several hundred of these drones she placed in a tall neat stack in the center of the room. Anger began to leave him as it made way for his curiosity at her newest creations.

He picked one up and observed the drone with closer inspection and found the design to be sleek and simple. Hn. Well, let’s see just what’s so special about these…drones.

He walked back over to her desk, to find her instructions. He thumbed through the first couple pages that illustrated designs and schematics, until he reached a title that read “OPERATION”. He skimmed her thorough words and got a good idea of how to turn them on. The drones acted as one unit initially unless specifically directed, and he could turn them on and give commands through voice activation. He looked at the drones, then back down to the instructions. Well if it’s really that simple, let’s give them a shot.

_I’m fresh out of bots anyway. _

He read from the page to command them to turn on. “Systems activate.”

“_Systems activated. Hello, Vegeta. We are Syndicate. Ready to accept commands of the Almighty Saiyan Prince._” Oh, he could just feel the woman’s sarcasm through the drone’s human impersonation. He grunted in response and read further down the page. In bold, there were commands and their descriptions. He read the first four.

**COMMAND READY-**initiates start-up. (Aren’t I so nice? You won’t have to carry them all to the GR. You’re welcome.)

**COMMAND ALL BATTLE READY**\- initial battle mode, levels 1-10. (Start with 1. Seriously.)  
  
**COMMAND ALL TACTICAL MISSION**\- Simulates tactical scenario sequencing, levels 1-5.  
  
**COMMAND ALL MILITARY INSERTION MISSION**\- Simulates war scenario, drones fight with and against target.

Hn. Simple enough. He gave them their first command. “Command ready.”

“_Ready to commence training, savior of the human race._” He snorted, decidedly amused at her programmed responses. The drones blinked on, and each of them fell into formation, ready to be transported. They moved so smoothly, almost like a dance, he thought as he marched them out of the room, down the hall, and through the back yard to his chamber. Once he entered, he found that the room had made a drastic change since his last visit this morning. The room had taken on the visage of a desert, so convincing it had even felt like the sun was bearing down on him. Now, he was officially impressed. He continued to make his way to the center of the now vast-looking desert room, drones still following him to the control panel that regulated gravity settings. On the board, was a new note that was once again in the woman’s handwriting. He picked it up and read it.

_I just added a fresh coat of paint in your room, called augmented reality. It’s delicate in its early stages, but don’t worry about destroying it, I covered the cameras in ki-absorbing spheres, so damage won’t interfere with training. It simulates real terrains from every biome on Earth. Say the name of one and it will shift. I provided a list for you to choose from, to acclimate the drones to other environments as I run further tests for the military, who by the way, has figured out what I’ve been up to, and will be hunting me down for my technology pretty soon, so be prepared. I also included depictions of Namek, that I recreated from memory. And for a surprise: say your name out loud. You’re welcome, no thanks required._

_-B_

_She must have been in here to set this up while I was out. Which means I just missed her. Damn it._ He sighed and did as the note told him for his so-called surprise.

“Vegeta.”

As soon as he said his name, the sands shifted beneath his feet, and began to change color. Deep red. Off in the distance of the simulation, he could see tall, clay mountain formations, and lapping at his feet was the red-tinted, golden shores of Planet Vegeta-sai. The waters were shimmering, such a gilded glimmer, it was hypnotizing. He let out a gasp and reached downwards to touch the water, and though he couldn’t feel it, the simulation transferred the liquid to his hands. He could feel the heat and sense the whipping of the winds, almost taste the air, envision his castle somewhere far from the augmented reality’s rendering. He felt a tear escape down his cheek. 

She had done it. She managed to do the unbelievable.

It was a near-perfect reality. It was an imitation, but it was far from cheap. Based completely off what he had told her, simply to silence her constant questions and pestering. He felt more tears run down his face as he looked over the waters to a sun lining the coast. He hadn’t felt this close to his home in many years, and he felt very fortunate for the solitude as he silently broke down.

As the water lapped at his knees in the scarlet sands of his simulated home world, he remembered when he had detailed to her these very attributes. They had chosen wine that night and the spirits had him rambling to her about his former home.

“The sands…were like the dry deserts here on this planet, but of the purest crimson hue, it complemented our moons that guided our red tides. Our seas were of glittering gold, it would make your gold here look like dim, tarnished metal.”

“You speak so highly of your planet, Vegeta. You must really miss it.”

“You have absolutely no idea. To miss my planet would be an understatement. I have been yearning for my planet for so long, it sometimes floods me with despair that I shall never again see those sands, swim in the waters and taste the sweet fruits of my home. The glory of the Saiyan race lost its population, and the glistening jewels that made our planet so coveted and so revered. Frieza gutted the planet and gave what remained of our world to the highest bidder, not even letting me, the last of the remaining royal family, see with my eyes the dying of Vegeta-sai. Which if I think back now, it was a blessing, because it would be a horror I wouldn’t be able to escape even in my tamest nightmares. I cannot bear to think if I had witnessed what he had done to my planet and my people, if I would have survived shortly after. Frieza was so ruthless, had I not been sent to destroy planet Tymish, I’m positive he would have forgotten his favoritism for me, and gotten rid of me, along with every last remnant of my planet’s existence.”

He was felt so overwhelmed in that moment that he threw his glass down on the tiles of the floor, only to have a cleaning bot skitter in from the other room to clean it up. She gave him a look of understanding when he looked up from the ground and he simply turned away from her, hunching over the table, holding his elbows and brooding to himself quietly. Bulma sat there across from him on her stool and you could hear a pin drop, she was so still. The words had been swept from her. Where she was unable to move or speak, she was enraptured with her thoughts of him and what he visually described to be his beloved planet. They had both chosen to say nothing for the rest of the night, even as they slipped away to their bedrooms for the evening. Now he knew what she was thinking of for him that evening. This was its manifestation.

He erased all evidence of his emotional outburst and broke out of the solace of his chamber to find her. The woman who made these incredible creations. Her genius had allowed him to once again feel that he was alive, and he felt the need to find her and ask her why. Was it to make him stay? Was it to exploit his weaknesses? He needed to witness from her personally why she did this for him, why she would go through the inconceivable lengths to create such technological masterpieces. He rushed through the compound, searching each room on the first floor, then worked his way to the top floor, and into her bedroom. He found only traces of her ki and her scent, but no woman. No Bulma anywhere on the premises.

He put his hands through his shock of hair in frustration, as he desperately thought of ways to reach her. He scanned her room with more attention to detail and found something familiar laying on her cluttered desk. It was his old armor, cleaned and repaired, along with new gloves and a new fresh pair of boots. He turned the chest plate over in his hands in quick appraisal and found the artifact had been added to the back of his armor, perfectly grafted. The armor was originally gold, and now so was his back-armor plating, along with the color of his planet’s insignia restored to its bright and brilliant red. Next to his refurbished armor was another note.

_Those things in the GR should keep you busy for a long time without me, as they will channel your ki and absorb it to keep from damaging and needing constant repairs, (drones included). Thank you for your... contribution. Hehe. I’ll explain what I mean at a later time. _

_This is your original armor, polished and fitted with gloves and boots that further enhance your gravity training, as they can adjust to your gravity needs. I improved your chest plate’s design, making it nearly impenetrable with a special metal synthesis I created. The artifact has been carbon dated with my technology, and it dates to the year 231. I’m still checking into what the data states about its positioning, but so far this is what I can tell you with certainty. I analyzed the piece, as promised, and found it would best serve you as a back-plate piece. So that’s where I put it. The armor altogether is light but very, very durable. I paired that with new lycra material that is sturdier as well, thanks to nanotech. I needed a vacation, so that’s where I went. I’m sure you won’t need me, as long as you don’t blow shit up. Ask my dad for any other needs that arise. _

_-B_

He stared at the page before clutching it tightly in his fist and letting out an animalistic roar, all his tension and frustration erupting simultaneously. “WHERE ARE YOU WOMAN!!”

He thought back to her drones. He wanted to take his aggression out on something sturdy, and those drones were begging to be tested. He gave up on his quest for the woman to march himself back into his newly augmented chamber and decided that the only thing he needed to do now was train his frustrations away.

“Command all battle ready, level one!” He shouted into the chamber, and the drones, all 300 of them, fell into line and complied with his command.

“_Battle mode-level one, initiated in T-minus 5…4…3…_” While the drones counted down, Vegeta readied himself to fight in his simulated version of his planet, arms raised, eyes focused. They each began to fire a sequence of lasers, some blasting at him, some around him, giving off an explosive display of force amongst the sands, imitating actual blasts from a laser and immediately immersing him in the battle. The drones shimmered for a moment before the pixels shifted into life-like soldiers, all decorated with the armor she had given him, except the colors weren’t blue and gold, but gray and black. He wished he had taken the time to put the armor on now, since it would have ki absorption, and would off-set some of the blasts he was currently deflecting. He was crowing as he enthusiastically sent waves of ki at the drone soldiers, blasting them as hard as he pleased, no damage seen as he charged amongst each of the drones, lasers firing, the sands blazing in the artificial sun. Every shot he fired was absorbed and emitted a blue glow, which transmitted to the drone that it was hit, and simulated a soldier death, letting the drone lie on the sands until they all lay at his feet. Vegeta’s chest was heaving as he shot the last drone off its feet, hitting the sand with a thud. This, along with 500 times Earth gravity, had him sinking to his knees, feeling the physical exertion he craved at long last. He felt absolute exhaustion, at no cost to his physical state due to injury and it brought a smile to his face. He could feel his power growing, and it gave him a sense of accomplishment, enough to send him out of the GR feeling light and ready for a well-deserved dinner. 


	9. Breakfast, Lunch, and a Needy Military

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back after a little hiatus! Sorry, I had a lull in creative flow for this chapter. It's so easy for me to write about the fun, juicy stuff. But the stuff in between is hard to write and make interesting lol I'll try to get back to a regular schedule though!

Bulma’s presence was still missed as the ninth night rolled around. Vegeta had been pushing himself to new heights naturally, and he felt as though he was on the precipice of achieving his elusive super Saiyan form. He was so close, he just needed one final push to unlock that power once and for all.

However, for all his recent achievements in strength, he found that he didn’t like that she was avoiding him. He knew she was, because she was back from her vacation to Hawaii, whatever that was, and he could sense her ki in the one place she always resided now - her lab. She had been in there so long one night, that one would believe she was trapped inside, only to find her face-deep under the body of another project for this scientific compendium or that national entity. He only gleaned these projects from her father when Dr. Briefs would sit and discuss it at the dinner table with his wife without her…again.

His frustration with being ignored was truly wearing on his patience. Every time he tried to confront her, she evaded him yet again for a charity gala or meeting. He was at his wit’s end. He simply wanted to ask her why.

The afternoon of the tenth day had him well and truly pissed as she had missed yet another breakfast with him and her family. It was now lunch time and Vegeta had settled into his meal when he felt the final threads of patience snap. He pounded two fists onto the table, startling both Panchy and Dr. Chaps.

“I have been quite patient with her by now. Where is that woman?”

“Bulma? Why she’s meeting with the general of the Army today, honey! Didn’t you know? He’s coming here because he found out about her technology and wanted some of it for the military to use. She’s been trying to avoid this all week. But the day has finally come. I hope she won’t be too mad… the government just wants her help in protecting all of us!” Panchy told him with a sweet, vacant smile.

He remembered vaguely about this situation and how it would eventually become relevant. The information came from one of their many past coffee conversations, late at night when she would let down her defenses and show him how she felt about her life at the time. She would always rant about the stupid, mundane things first, then him, and then her projects. It was like clockwork. One of the only true routines she had with him was when she bitched to him. He would never admit it, but he paid attention to what she had to say.

Vegeta knew how Bulma felt about the government and was wary of how she was going to handle this ordeal today. He knew she thought that the general was nosy and power-hungry, and he also knew she wouldn’t care about giving the military a piece of her mind. This made him smirk slightly, but it was gone as soon as Bulma’s father spoke.

“What business do you have with Bulma anyway, Vegeta?”

The prince’s demeanor shifted from quiet frustration to thinly concealed frigidity. “What makes you think I have business with her?” He deflected.

The elder scientist ventured further, throwing caution to the wind.

“You’ve been awfully fidgety and she’s been busier than usual. So busy, in fact, one might be moved to think she’s been evading something, or someone.”

“Tch. Shut up. I’m not ‘fidgeting’. I don’t care what she might be doing, her avoidance is childish. That’s all.”

Vegeta sat stone-faced, shoving the cheese and tomato that slipped out of his sandwich back in before taking a bite of it. Vegeta idly wondered what Chaps was after in this conversation. The older man had to know he was trying his luck with being this invasive and forward.

“Childish, you say? I would say that you do care about what she does, particularly when it involves your training equipment. And by golly, I’d say she’s done a great deal of advancement for you…I wonder what brought about such…dedication. Wouldn’t you?”

Vegeta stopped mid-bite to give Dr. Briefs direct eye contact.

“Did you hit your head this morning on the flight deck, Briefs? You’re awfully chatty. I could remedy that if you’d like. I once pulled a tongue clean out of a man’s mouth for merely speaking out of turn.”

Chaps knew he was making the man across from him uncomfortable, but he was curious. He wanted to know what was causing the prince's demeanor to be so agitated, more so than his usual behavior of grunting angrily about this or that.

“If you value the steady stream of our state-of-the-art technology and equipment, you’ll leave me and my tongue out of this, son. Bulma is my daughter. What concerns you with how she goes about her relations, when your only interest is our technology?” Chaps challenged.

Vegeta was beginning to understand where the woman’s persistent, stubborn streak had originated from. It was smacking hard against his last few nerves.

“That doesn’t matter. I only want to understand her intent. You humans are a sneaky lot.” He finished his statement with a roll of his shoulders and a glare at the scientist.

Chaps squared himself to match Vegeta, meeting the man's glare with his own.

“Bulma is a great deal of things, hotheaded, impatient, and arrogant being amongst those things. But intentional deception never was a quality she possessed. She also happens to be one of the most capable minds of the current decade. I’d have no one other than her working by my side. So, your dismissal of her is misguided at best and plain foolish at worst,” Chaps said, adjusting the glasses on his face.

The Saiyan prince was usually quiet, but the couple across from him knew trouble always accompanied this level of silence.

Vegeta stood without warning, startling both Panchy and the doctor with his force. He then picked up his plate and to the couple’s further astonishment, silently retrieving more food.

“I know what she is.” He told them flatly over his shoulder after filling his plate. “This conversation is finished.”

Vegeta sat back down at the table, and the silence returned. Dr. Briefs settled himself again, no longer feeling heat radiating from the prince and took a sip from his glass. Panchy’s startled expression shifted back to her usual grin and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder.

A thought came to the scientist's head regarding the Saiyan, leading to eventual satisfaction of his curiosity as his smile was well hidden behind the cup in his hand.

What he was able to deduce from Vegeta's actions, or lack thereof, when he had prodded at him with their conversation spoke volumes, telling him exactly what he needed to know.

* * *

Vegeta finished his fifth plate, not feeling particularly hungry as he made his way outside to the patio and across the backyard to the GR. Without further delay, he slipped inside to resume another day of training.

As he trained, he found he was distracted by something happening outside. He tried to block it out, but the distress was consistent. It was like a beacon, calling to him, beckoning him to respond. When he realized it wasn’t going to stop, he stomped to the edge of the room and slammed his fist down on the control panel. He decided that he would see what the distress was outside, and then come right back to train when it was over so he could gain his concentration back.

He quickly made his way towards the front yard through the back gate. As he was making his way to the front yard, he heard a loud feminine voice carrying over the fence.

Bulma.

* * *

“I haven’t finished my work, General Quill," Bulma said, flicking her wrist out to examine her manicure.

“We need your tech, as promised, Ms. Briefs. The Army needs this equipment to train.”

“And I told you-not yet! The drones are still being tested and you would get them in a month!”

“That’s not good enough! We need to start the drone program now to keep our edge over the Argosians!”

Bulma felt the heat in her cheeks rise. No one was gonna rush her work. Not her parents, not the government, and certainly not a certain Saiyan prince.

“With all due respect, sir - tough shit! My drones aren’t ready for that yet. And besides, Argosia already knows of our capabilities, the least you can do is wait one week, then you will have it in your hands. Just be patient, you already know I don’t like using my tech for foreign affairs.”

General Quill groaned in frustration.

“Then we’ll take your technology by force!”

Bulma’s arms went from her hips to being crossed over her chest.

“Like hell you will! I want to see you try!”

When the general stepped forward to cross the front lawn, she quickly pressed a button on her remote to signal for her security lasers to lock on to his position.

The general noticed them immediately and stopped in his tracks. He stood warily but was still unsatisfied.

“You have 5 seconds General Quill before the lasers fire on your coordinates. Leave now.”

The general gaped in an undignified manner. He pulled out a laser pistol and aimed it at her threateningly. “I will have you imprisoned for treason against the United States Army, Ms. Briefs. Cease fire!”

“I will do no such thing!”

She was ready for the general’s opposition. She was not ready, however, for Vegeta’s response.

The angry Saiyan blasted waves of ki all over the yard, electric current sparking ample amounts of energy, creating a flashy display of power and destruction on the Brief’s front lawn. Bulma had retreated quickly, but not quick enough to avoid a blast to her side from Quill’s weapon. She stifled her cry as she crawled her way to safety.

“My training was disturbed for a mere man? I will blast him where he stands! “Vegeta glided down to General Quill’s level in all his Saiyan glory, hair blowing, eyes flashing angrily as the general cowered in fear.

“Who, what are you?” the general managed to say though he quaked in terror.

“Not human. Get off my lawn.” Vegeta held his hand out in front of him, ready to blast the man if he remained a moment longer.

The general turned and fled, sprinting down the street as fast as his feet could carry him to his vehicle and away from the dangerous alien.

As Vegeta cooled off, he still felt vexed as he slowly made his way to the gravity room to resume his katas. As he walked, he looked down and saw red streaking over blades of grass.  
  
It was blood.

He quickened his steps when he saw more of it, following the trail until he found Bulma, lying in a small pool of crimson. He swiftly bent down to check for signs of life, finding himself anxiously nudging her body.

She knitted her eyebrows together in pain, groaning as she grabbed for her side. He swatted her hand away from the wound.

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Don’t touch me, Vegeta! I’m fine,” Bulma huffed through her tears.

He rolled his eyes and made to pick her up bridal-style.

“No, you’re not. He must have shot you good, because you’re bleeding quite a bit.”

She slapped him repeatedly, trying to get him to put her down.

He ignored her efforts easily, as they had no effect on him and he continued to hold her in his arms.

“Stop slapping me and hold still!”

“No! Why’d you have to do that, Vegeta! I had it handled!”

He grunted. “Clearly.”

Bulma’s attacks began to weaken as she grew tired from the extent of her injury. Her head lolled as she sagged against him.

“Idiot.”

He walked her into the house and up the stairs to her room. Setting her down on her bed, he quickly got to work on her wound. Vegeta brought the tip of his glove to his mouth to pull it off hastily to find his way under her clothes and then pressed his hand into her side. Bulma’s eyes flew wide open as it felt like her side had been set on fire and she cried out painfully.

As he held her side, she struggled against him, trying with her remaining energy to break away from him.

“Stop it! Stop, Vegeta!”

“Woman! Will you contain yourself? I’m trying to stop your bleeding! You should be thanking me!” He tried to hold her in place with his hand, but she refused to stop squirming away from him.

“Well I’m not! Stop hurting me!”

She groaned and eventually grew quiet and still, succumbing to her injuries for a second time. She managed to lay her head down on her pillow and settled on the bed before him.

_Such a weak race_, Vegeta thought peevishly as he held her side, using his ki to cauterize the wound. Her side finally stopped bleeding, and he looked to assess his work. He released her to find a first aid kit in her bathroom. He found it at last in a cabinet under her sink, and as he looked around, he took in his untidy surroundings._ It’s a wonder I even found it in this mess._

He walked back to her bed and found that she had pulled herself into a fetal position, holding her side with her face scrunched in pain.

_That man did this to her._

Vegeta felt something stirring in his chest uncomfortably as she laid on her bed still covered in blood and yard filth. He felt like he needed to comfort her, as maddening as that notion was to him initially. He thought back to her to their confrontation from several days ago from several days ago. She had challenged him outright, and even though it didn’t mean anything to her, it meant signs of a viable mate in his culture.

_She was a fighter_, he acknowledged, as he held gauzes to her side. She was currently surviving something that could have very well claimed her life. Strong or not, he had to admit she was brave for this. At that, he felt pride swelling for her at the thought of her fighting to live. Another more foreign sensation tightened in his chest, and he couldn’t help but think his intuition was right all along.

As much as he fought to ignore it, he guessed that it was only natural that his instincts would choose her.

She wasn’t physically strong, that much was obvious. But she was mentally unrivaled, her will was impeccable, and her intellect surpassed his own by several leagues. Maybe, despite the loss of his own race, there was a way he could continue it; through her. This was his last chance to lead a legacy, to restore the Saiyan race, one step at a time. He could keep his bloodline strong through her and her race, since they were strikingly like his own.

He grew accustomed to this idea, allowing himself to take comfort in this reoccurring revelation. Maybe, he didn’t have to be alone. Maybe dying out didn’t have to be the path he chose. She had proved to be a worthy mate thus far and who knows? She never ceased to surprise him with her wits and spitfire. How many more surprises could she give him?

This spurred him to action. He started to strip her down and out of her filthy clothes.

She squeezed her eyelids together tightly as she experienced waves of pain, but she didn’t protest as he stripped her bare. He managed to get her shirt off but had to take a moment to prepare himself for her bra. The Saiyan wasn’t well versed in Earth fashion, so he anticipated an issue. He focused on the back clasps and, after a couple attempts, he managed to free her from it, irritated with the unnecessary steps.

_Stupid clothing contraption._

He had to focus intently on his task to keep himself from ogling her naked body, for it would be a very inappropriate time to do so, as she had yet to give him evident permission to see her this way. He pulled her into his arms again to walk her into her bathroom, ready to rinse her body free of yard trimmings and any remnants of blood. He ran the water in the bathtub, checking it for a suitable temperature and set her inside of it as gently as he could manage.

He caught himself staring at her and ripped his eyes away from her with annoyance as he went to straighten her bed and fetch fresh sheets from her closet.

Turning her water off, he steeled himself against his next task. Grabbing soap and a cloth, he lathered them together in his hands as he began rubbing it onto her body. He ran his hands over her skin and washed off the dirt and blood as well as he could with steady precision. He only needed to clean her superficial problems. She could do a better job when she felt able.

He stayed away from her side as much as possible to ensure he wouldn’t reopen her wound. It wept shallow amounts of blood, but nothing too serious. He had made sure of that with his Ki. He kept working on getting her clean enough to further stave off any infection, then lifted her out of the tub and brought a towel down to dry her off so he could bind her side.

When she was dry, he picked her up and set her down on the bed, side wrapped in gauze, body wrapped snuggly in her pink towel. He went digging through her drawers to find shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt. He sat her up to pull on her shirt and fought every part of his instincts to leave her shorts off and take her.  
  


_You will not dishonor yourself,_ he commanded internally.

  
When his body finally obeyed him after pinching the bridge of his nose tightly and inhaling calming breaths, he then carefully pulled up her shorts over her lower half. He knew how to take care of his urges and would do so later, after he knew she was safe. He pulled the blankets over her to tuck her in, setting a glass of water and two pain pills on her nightstand as she had done for him in the past, before watching her sleeping form momentarily.

She was breathtaking, he finally let himself conclude.

She was beautiful - her body was exquisite, her breasts perky and large for her frame, but not overbearingly so. Her hair was an exotic shade of blue, and her eyes were endless pools of cerulean. She was vastly intelligent, surpassing all the humans on this planet accompanied by her quick wit and voracious curiosity. She never ceased in her quest for information, whether it be her world or for him and his own planet.

She was his definition of perfection.

This was the conclusion he had come to as he turned out her lights.

His instincts picked him a perfect mate, he thought to himself silently as he pulled himself down to the gravity room.

* * *

When she woke up early the next morning, she realized some differences, mainly in her appearance.

She sat up and immediately regretted it as her side was screaming out to her in protest. She laid back down and pulled her covers from her form. Her clothes were different for sure, along with her sheets that were once pink but now blue. She realized she wasn’t wearing underwear nor bra, and this gave her an uneasy pang in her stomach. She remembered what happened yesterday and this had Vegeta written all over it. She felt her side and noticed it had been wrapped expertly with gauze, but upon further inspection found it slightly weeping blood.

With effort, and some pain, she managed to reach for the nightstand and grab the painkillers he left for her, putting the pills in past her lips and washing them down with the glass of water. The movement was triggering her side again, and she cried out painfully, trying to lay back down, but it wasn’t helping. He was at her door with her third cry.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be moving. Lay back down, Bulma.”

She looked at him in fury, crinkling her nose and trying her best not to cry out from the pain.

“As if you know anything about healing and staying still. Ahh…my side. It hurts…_gah_” She gasped as she held her side.

She inhaled through her teeth in pain as Vegeta came over to check on her wrappings.

He found that she had bled right through them. Glancing over to see that she had taken her pills, he reached forward to pick her arms up.

She fought him, of course, but she eventually had to comply as he fought her back.

“I need to replace your bandages,” he groused, unwrapping her first layer of bindings.

“No…just leave…me be," she panted, grabbing weakly for his wrist.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Just let me take care of you for once!” He could help but yell this at her, and for more than just this incident.

He was still angry with her for his unanswered questions.

She sat still for a moment, staring at him as he perched himself on the bed next to her, and then she raised her arms for him.

He hiked her shirt up, but when she protested him for trying to pull it up past her breasts, he groaned. This was already hard enough for him.

He stopped what he was doing to make direct eye contact with her, his facial expression flat to show her he wasn't playing around.

“I’m not trying to be rude, woman. Just cover them with your hands then. I need to get that wound cleaned and bound again.”

She looked away and complied, face red with embarrassment. She thought back to all that he’d probably seen of her by now. Her face was now burning with the thoughts of him undressing her and washing her down in the tub and placing her in these clothes last night. That’s what had to have happened, since her hair was still wet. He’s seen her naked now! Oh no. That means he’s seen her blue birthmark on her right hip, or that weird freckle she had on her upper torso.

_Ughhh. He probably thought I looked weird_, she thought miserably.  
  


If only she knew what he was really feeling as he worked the old dressings from her body to ready her wound for new dressing.

Under his neutral façade and contrary to her beliefs, he was riveted by her body, desperate to have her well again so he could eventually take her and make her his. But she knew nothing of the plans he had.

Busy obsessing over her small insecurities, she failed to witness the blush present in his cheeks.

The old gauze was off, the flesh underneath was clean, and he made sure it was sterile before redressing the wound with fresh wrappings.

He motioned for her to put her arms and shirt down for him now, and he gently guided her body down onto the bed.

“There.”

“Wow, you’re good at this,” she smiled at him. 

“You pick up a thing or two on the battlefield, I suppose.” A light blush was back on his face.

“Thank you, Vegeta. You didn’t have to do any of that for me.”

“Nor did you have to make me any of that new technology. Or enhance my armor. So, why did you?” He shot her a pointed look.

She grew quiet because she had been avoiding this for so long. She didn’t think she needed to tell him why, because it frankly wasn’t any of his business.

“My…my reasons are my own. I don’t need to tell you.”

“That’s not a good enough answer, woman," he crossed his arms.

She looked away from him and down towards the end of the bed.

“I don’t want to tell you. Why can’t you just accept those things for what they are and let me move on?”

He looked at her momentarily and felt that he understood now, with some clarity, why she was reluctant to tell him. He could tell because the fear was back, written all over her features.

“My main goal is still to restore my pride and beat Kakarot. So don’t expect me to change. Or stay. I’ll leave to train if I want to, you know.”

She was still in a good deal of pain, but she stretched her arm up to place her hand on his face, causing him to flinch at the touch of her palm against his cheek. With courage, she told him the answer to his question.

“You could leave and go back to wherever you were before we met. I didn’t craft that technology to keep you here. I…I care about you, Vegeta. I respect your decision to help in the fight to save Earth. I…you’re not bad company. It's good having you around,” she murmured with a soft grin.

He pressed his cheek further into her hand, enjoying the sensation. When it dawned on him what he was doing, he cleared his throat and gathered his composure, taking her hand and placed it back on the bed gently, setting his mouth in a thin line.

“Yes, well, the augmented reality was a nice touch. The Ki absorption is exceptional - I wasn’t able to destroy a single drone.”

She gave a small laugh.

“That’s the idea, tough guy.”

“How did you manage to achieve this?”

“That I won’t tell you…it’s a secret,” she winked.

He re-crossed his arms.

“I don’t much care for secrets, Bulma.”

“You said it again," she told him softly.

“Said what?”

She grinned. “My name. You didn’t call me ‘woman’,” she imitated him, mocking the way he usually said the word.

“So?” He countered. 

“I like it.”

“Whatever - shut up and stop being so-“

“Mushy?” She offered.

“Yes. It’s jarring.”

“I like our fights too,” she smiled.

“Hn. Whatever. How are you feeling now?” He grunted.

“Still in some pain - he shot me good. But you sure know how to keep a girl in bed, huh?”

He looked at her and paled.

“You truly are a vulgar creature. Honestly, to talk of such things so blatantly.”

“And I’m the prude. Don’t you…I don’t know, have some training to do?” She said dismissively, but a smile was still present on her face.

“As a matter of fact, I do, woman. If we’re all finished here, I’m going to get back to that. I’m so close to my transformation, I can feel it in my bones.”

She smirked. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He was about to leave but felt something stir in him that made him want to turn back around. He stepped back over to her and bent down, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Bulma.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I gave Dr. Briefs a first name by the way. Chaps is just...fitting for him lol anyways, let me know how you feel about the flow/character dev./plot. In the comments and I'll be working on the next chapter!
> 
> Thanks again to BundyShoes for her awesome editing work!


	10. Areelia, Argosia, and Aliens, Oh My!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my commenters, you guys really helped me find a bit of my determination again to get through these chunks of story I've been struggling with for months now. I appreciate you for it! This chapter works out the rest of how Quill gets his revenge on C.C, and Vegeta ascends and makes new plans involving a certain someone... I might hammer out some more after I finish some school work... Until next time, here is all of chapter 10!
> 
> *Edited by the lovely BundyShoes*

Vegeta was pushing himself particularly hard that next day after Bulma was put on bed rest. He realized that her injury at the General’s hand was something he was not only uncomfortable with, but he was sensing that his instincts were fueling his need to protect her and it was presenting itself as a distraction from his goal. It already wasn’t easy for him as a Saiyan to be emotionally comfortable, with his traumatic past and the Saiyan culture he understood acting as thick walls of concrete, blocking him from developing higher emotional intelligence. He realized that this stunted him emotionally on this planet, but it didn’t stop _her_.  
  
Bulma kept pushing him, regardless of how he felt about that. He just couldn’t shake the feelings she evoked in him after their encounters. He was craving her like an addiction and it was becoming too much for him to handle. He wanted her. She was his perfection; he had already decided. She was a part of his pride now, and just like his pride, he wanted to protect her. He could have killed that army general for speaking to her the way he did. It infuriated him exponentially. What business did that man think he had talking to Bulma that way, demanding she give him anything? Her only mission she needed to complete was giving him adequate equipment to train with and she has already done that, if not going above and beyond his expectations.

She modified his augmented reality to be not only voice activated, but interactive, like his drones. She updated the software and gave it a name, so she could have it debut in the newest issue of Science Predicate. She excitedly told him that she named it AREE-LIA: Augmented Reality of Earthly Environments-Limited Interplanetary Actualization. She told him to call ‘her’ Areelia for short now. Which he told her was a stupid personification of metal and wires, with which she shouted at him indignantly that she didn’t care what he thought and then told him to promptly kiss her ass.

He sighed. He had allowed for his mind to linger on her long enough.

He decided it was time to get back to work, so he turned on the gravity chamber and commanded the drones into formation.

He wanted today to be the day.

He crossed his arms before addressing his room. He didn’t want to give Bulma the satisfaction, but it was the only way he could change environments now.

“Areelia, Ocean biome.”

“_Ocean biome, initiated_.”

As the large chamber began to fill with water and the ground below him shifted to wet sand and stone, Vegeta steadied his breathing. Inhale…exhale...

Saiyans could hold their breaths for at least 2 hours, so this would be a great way to introduce gravity and water pressure into his resistance training. Thanks to Bulma and Dr. Briefs, they were able to bring forth this concept and add it to his repertoire, which was so much better than the company pool.

The room filled almost completely to the top, save for a small gap of breathing room, in case he couldn’t handle not being able to breathe. It was a safety precaution Bulma had insisted upon, much to Vegeta’s chagrin.

The room submerged him up to his neck in minutes, and he squared himself to face the drones, which encircled him, ready to hear his voice.

“Command battle ready…level 10.”  
  


* * *

  
Bulma snuck out of her room an hour after her parents had come to check on her. She hobbled her way down to her lab and sealed herself inside. Truthfully, as much as she enjoyed Vegeta’s attention and her parent’s care, she was getting stir crazy and wanted to be healed already. She was thinking about calling Goku for a Senzu bean but decided to try something else first.

Vegeta had mentioned a couple times about an advanced healing chamber which had healed him in a matter of minutes versus the hours it would usually take to heal naturally from the extent of his injuries. She wanted to try her hand at replicating such a chamber.

“Command: On,” she called into the space, turning on her various drives and equipment. The room flashed to life, and Bulma wheeled her chair over to her newest and favorite equipment.

She raised both hands flat into the air, and the holographic screen synced to the position of her hands, blue graphing lined the space before her as her hands swiped at image designs and virtual parts. She picked and chose, adjusting parts with the touch of her fingers. With the shell and outline selected and assembled from memory, and her own creative design added, she finished crafting a holographic chamber before her eyes. She thought back to what Vegeta had told her about the Regeneration tanks on Frieza's ships.

"He would beat us or make us beat each other until we were on the brink of dying, and then he would shove us in one of those tanks to let us heal, starting the process all over again. Beating, and healing. That was part of a regular day under Lord Frieza," he told her.

She shuddered involuntarily. That was one of the many things that contributed to making the Saiyan she knew as Vegeta today. It really wasn't a wonder why he acted or talked the way he did. 

She never got to meet that monster Frieza when he was with them on Namek, but she knew for a fact that she wouldn't have wanted to. She could only imagine that if she was to see him, it would mean her death.

She glanced at the clock on her desk. It was 3pm. She had started at 10am. She felt so productive, and the hours had flown by! She grinned giddily to herself as she simulated the healing chamber filling with liquid, sliding her finger over an adjustment wheel. It was beautiful. She was proud of this newest advancement and she silently congratulated herself, holding her side to stave off the pain.

She hovered her hands over an icon on her holographic screen and it shivered under her hand, signaling another machine to hum to life. This program will be sent her blueprints and start to craft the parts from her holographic selections, then the parts could be assembled to fit with 100% accurate sizing. She’d need her dad to come in for that though. She hasn’t had the time to create a program to auto-assemble yet and she would need her father’s help for that, since it would take some serious heavy lifting, physically and mentally. She sighed happily. She felt in such high spirits, that she could do just about anything.

_Even give the gift of forgiveness_, she thought, remembering General Quill, darkness mixing with her light mood.

She needed to get General Quill off her back and give him something to satisfy his technological cravings for the time being so he’d stop calling. He called her father two times today asking for Bulma’s drones. It was grating on her very last nerve.

Not only did Quill not apologize for blasting her, but he was going through her father to get to her equipment! That last thought made her so mad, she wheeled over to her phone and angrily searched for his number. She was going to give him a piece of her mind and she was going to remind him not to piss off her or her father, or these drones were the last pieces of advancement the military would ever see from Capsule Corporation.  
  


* * *

  
Ever since he left Capsule Corporation ground, tail tucked between his legs, General Quill had been thinking up a plan to get his revenge on the Briefs. He was absolutely livid with the way the situation was handled, and he still didn’t have what he needed to maintain the army’s edge over the Argosians.

“Damnit!” He exclaimed to himself, frustration fueling him on his drive over to the military lab. He needed a plan. That man…that alien was a force to be reckoned with. Who knew what else he could do? To himself, or from the power emanating from his hands… maybe even the planet?

The possibilities were running through his hand as he stepped out of his vehicle. He knew he needed to be smart about this. No screw ups. Or he’d die before he’d be able to exact any kind of vengeance on Capsule Corporation. That savage alien meant business, no doubt about that. Quill knew he needed to get through him in order to get to the heart.

He made his way inside the building, intent on finding the head scientist of the base, Dr. Isola Donavi. He walked by a couple of lab assistants until he found the person he was looking for, who was currently studying a sample under a microscope.

Dr. Donavi felt a presence behind her and turned around.

“Hello, General. Welcome back,” she said as she got up from her chair to face him. “Did you acquire the drone technology?”

He sighed and gave her an uneasy smile. She motioned for them to step into her glass office, shutting the door behind him. 

“Not yet. Bulma met me with a bit of resistance, more so than I originally anticipated

Dr. Donavi gave him a knowing smile, "That woman is stubborn, but I'm sure she has her reasons for the delay.”

“Well, I need progress and results. I need to assure our government that we have secured the upper hand over our adversaries across the lake in order to cease their talks and persuade them they have very little to worry about. Can’t do that without our leading scientists and their contributions.”

Dr. Donavi gave him a side-long glance, “Yes, I suppose Capsule Corp is our leading innovators on the scientific market.”

Quill straightened and put his hands behind his back, “I’ll cut to the chase, Isola. I need Capsule Corp to take our country’s protection more seriously. I need something to focus their attention on what the military needs. To show that we mean business. I’m gonna find what I need and that’s how I intend to retaliate.”

Quill felt his phone vibrating in his pocket before Isola could question him.

“Yes, Ms. Briefs? I’m very busy right now and not impressed with your treatment yesterday. I do apologize for your injury, but it was only an act of defense.”

Dr. Donavi could hear screaming through the phone and General Quill moved the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly with discomfort. He put it back when he sensed she had settled down.

“Tomorrow? Fine. I’ll stop by again to pick them up. Fair enough. Thank you for your cooperation. Good day.” He put his phone back in his pocket and looked to Dr. Donavi.

“I need a plan. I can’t simply let Capsule Corporation think they can disregard public safety for their own selfish endeavors.”

He pulled the scientist in close to him, startling her momentarily.

“This stays between me and you. She and her family are housing an…alien, doctor.”

“An alien, you say? From what country?”

“No, he’s not from a different country, Isola. A Different _planet_.”

The scientist had enough sense not to outright laugh in his face. She covered her smile behind her coat sleeve.

“Oh, I don’t believe we’ve had anything escape from Area 51 in the recent decade, General…”

He gave her a serious look, maintaining eye contact.

“You didn’t see what I saw. You didn’t see what he could do. The alien looked like a man but was much more powerful than any human being could be capable of. He levitated several feet in the air before my very eyes and shot bolts of lightning from the palms of his hands, then threatened me within an inch of my life! He deliberately told me he wasn’t human! Verbal confirmation!” His eyes were as big as saucers at this point and Dr. Donavi was trying her very best to keep her composure, though she felt it quickly slipping as she continued to watch his face.

“Sir, it’s been a long week for you, hasn’t it? Not enough action…” she trailed off when she watched his face shift to anger.

“Don’t patronize me, Doctor. There’s no way I was dreaming or making this up! Dr. Briefs is housing an alien under his roof and this creature is without a doubt a potential threat to national security!”

Other scientists were looking at the two through the glass of Dr. Donavi's office. She and Quill glanced over and then returned their focus back to their conversation, continuing in more hushed voices.

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“I see you trying to hold in your laughter, but I’m right. Hell, if you don’t want to believe me, go knock on their door! One whiff of military presence and you’ll get your proof - that is, if he lets you live! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He let go of her shoulder, satisfied that he got his message across at least.

“Regardless, I have to think of something. Bulma Briefs is requesting me to come by tomorrow. Maybe if I look around, I’ll find something of interest to ask for to make up for their mistreatment. I’ll be back in to see you soon enough, Isola. Keep an ear out for anything…. strange.”

He stepped away from her and saw himself out of the lab. She finally let herself laugh at their discussion.

“Strange? Yeah, I was looking at him. That’s the ‘Strange’.”  
  


* * *

  
Vegeta had his work cut out for him - and then some - in the gravity room. Not only was he underwater for the first time since the ocean biome was introduced, but he had cranked up the drones to the maximum difficulty currently programed.

He wasn’t messing around today, but neither was the technology that currently encircled him. For every drone he dodged, ten more came his way and then another wave followed, creating a never-ending barrage of energy. He felt himself begin to slow down; his punches were losing their intensity and for once in a long time since he started training in this chamber, he started to feel slightly nervous.

Drones came for him left and right, and as he sped around the chamber, he strung several onto his path, trying to outrun those chasing him. But for every bit of effort he gave, none of the drones were backing down. Not one drone was shutting off, signaling their defeat.

He had been doing this for about an hour now and it was rapidly taking its toll on his reservoir of strength. He stopped mid-lap and the drones were instantly upon him. As he fought his way out, at least twenty had him pinned him to the simulated ocean floor, holding him down and attacking him with sonic blasts.

His panic increased ten-fold, as he wasn’t ready for this kind of attack. Try as he might, the drones wouldn’t budge. He yelled in frustration, water flooding into his mouth, then steadily filling his lungs. Crying out for his life, he tried to lift an arm or leg under the weight of the drones, but they wouldn't give him a single inch of leeway.

He was stuck, and he was losing air. Fast.

This is it. It was happening. Bulma and her father created many wonderous creations, but this one had become his nightmare, a watery mausoleum. He was going to die and no one was around to see him struggle for his life.  
  


* * *

  
In her lab, Bulma had an idea. The _piece de resistance_, the one thing she knew Vegeta was going to flip over, if he hadn’t already been happy about her other enhancements.  
  
She was going to gift him a tail! Not just any tail - his very own, brand new Saiyan tail!

When the idea hit her, she cracked a smile so wide she nearly jumped from her chair with excitement, but fortunately remembered her injured side and settled for clapping to herself happily.

When Vegeta had asked how she managed to come up with her newest technology and what made it work, she told him it was a secret. If only he knew how simple of a secret it was and how it was so close to him, it was practically under his nose.  
  
_It was him; he was the secret_, she thought to herself, smiling at her own cleverness.

It was his DNA. She snagged his essence one night when she was helping her mother with the household laundry. She collected his hair, took a couple bristles from his toothbrush, and blood from his clothes for extra potency. She gathered each sample, extracted the purest form of DNA into one big sample, storing in a large test tube and infusing it with her tech to give him the very best equipment and armor she could create.

And it had worked! It created a barrier for him and recognized his ki so it could be absorbed when he came into contact with a drone. Brilliant! It had worked so brilliantly, he hounded her for days to figure out how it came about. Now the DNA would come in handy again, crafting him a perfect replica of his tail. It will be like it was never cut off!

As she set to work at her desk, freshly brandishing a beaker and new wave of enthusiasm, her eyes caught a shimmering glow in her periphery. She turned her attention to the monitor of the GR and froze.

Vegeta was currently submerged at the bottom of the chamber, under a pile of about 50 drones, and from the looks of it, he was losing the fight. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart was pounding heavily in her chest as she watched the screen in horror.

He was in danger!

She jumped up, adrenaline blocking her temporarily from the pain she would have felt, and reached for the control panel, but stopped when she saw it again. She thought it was her just eyes playing tricks on her, but it happened a second time.

A flash of light came from under the drones that were currently encasing Vegeta and suddenly the drones were propelled away from him , freezing in place and turning off due to the force.

Before her on the screen was a ball of pure, golden light.

Her mouth hung open in awe for a moment before pressing the button, shutting off the room and signaling it to drain. She gave the screen one more glance before running to the lab door, determined to get to the GR. She had to get to him - for all she knew he could still be in danger.  
  


* * *

  
She was a live wire, running through the yard and stopping before the door to the chamber.

_Here goes everything,_ she thought, reaching her hand to pull the handle.

Out rushed the remaining water, through and around her legs. She held fast to the door, trying not to get swept away with the current, before peering inside.

She saw his form and her mouth hung open in disbelief. He was on his back and he was bathed in pure light, radiating from head to toe. She rushed over to him as fast as her body allowed but had to stop a few feet away before she reached his form.

The heat coming from the light was intense. She could barely stand to look directly at him any longer, shielding her eyes behind the sleeve of her coat. He rose to stand as she began to weaken, adrenaline wearing off and the pain returned with full force in her side. No doubt she angered her injury, since she could once again feel the presence of her bandages slowly absorbing the blood flowing from her wound. Inhaling painfully through her teeth, she laid her body down on the wet tiles.

“_Ahh, ow_…Kami this hurts…”

Vegeta could feel his body calling out every one of his injuries to him painfully, but he ignored them and made his way to Bulma. He knew she was in pain and she needed to get out of here and go back to bed.

What she was doing out of it, he didn't know, but as far as either of them knew, it seemed she played a hand in saving his life. If it hadn't been for her, he would still be submerged under water at this point, out of oxygen and succumbing to his injuries that would have led to his eventual demise

He raised his hand to reach for her, but realized it was emitting a golden glow and pulled back, examining it. His heart rate increased when he looked down at the rest of his body and found he was golden all over, the bright filament emanating all over his body, radiating from his core.

His excitement was dampened when he looked and saw no movement from the woman in front of him. He quickly willed his glow to diminish slightly and fell to the floor next to her on hands and knees.

“Bulma?” He called to her, reaching to roll her over, finding her eyes were scrunched together tightly. "Bulma, I'm here.”

She opened them halfway at the sound of his voice.

“_Vegeta_…I knew it. I knew I wasn’t seeing things back in the lab. You’re glow - it’s beautiful. I…I saw you…you were in trouble, so I came as fast as I could.” She held her side with one hand and reached for him with the other.

He flinched back from her, trying to keep his distance, as he was unsure how his form would react under her touch. He slowly worked up the ability to lean in after a moment, carefully pulling her into his lap.

She reached out to him in wonder, the energy from his body radiating around them and giving her a warm sensation. She touched his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. His skin was even warmer than his aura.

He reached his gloved hand up to meet her, holding her hand lightly against his face. She smiled at him, the sincerity and authenticity holding him in rapture.

“You did it, Vegeta. I’m…I’m so proud of you.”

He was silent, but reverent at this woman who had done everything in her power to help him. It had all finally paid off with the evidence of his glorious transformation. His eyes, now shining a vibrant blue, looked over her face and gave a her a small, but true smile.

“Yes, Bulma. I did it.”

The energy illuminating his body was starting to become too much for Bulma again, and she hid her eyes behind her arm.

“You’re beautiful, Vegeta.”

At that admission, he became choked, not sure what to say. In all his years he'd been alive...after all the time he’d spent under Frieza's control, never once did he think he would hear those words gifted to him so willingly. 

“Your equipment…. this planet, it all finally paid off. I… I have achieved the legendary transformation, immense power that was detailed in whispers and rumors amongst my kin …it has not only been found real but has been given to me as well.” Vegeta stood, carrying Bulma with him in his arms as they made their way outside and into the evening atmosphere.

Bulma felt a chill as they came into the open air after being in the still wet GR. The power coming off him was warming her through to her bones, so she clung to him tighter. She held him comfortably - not like when he flew her to the Kame House; this was less desperate, more intimate. The contrast of his bright form against the evening sky was a bit much for her, so she closed her eyes.

She saw his light flicker behind her lids before going out. Bulma looked up and saw he was not only powered down but was staring at her. She felt her cheeks burn at his gaze. He was looking at her so intently, he wanted to turn away from him, but found herself lost in obsidian. It was captivating, staring into the depths of his eyes.

"So what now?" She asked him, slightly dazed.

“This,” he said as his hand met her cheek and he pulled her in for a firm and simmering kiss. She blinked in astonishment, before giving in and wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. He held her just as tight, trying to convey as much as he could to her through the melding of their lips. He was thankful to her and he wanted to show it.

She was the first to break away, her side protesting their movement.

"For...for someone with such hard and callused hands...you sure have a very soft pair of lips," she told him almost breathlessly after she pulled away. He looked away from her, trying to hide his expression at her compliment. He cast his gaze to the patio.

“Hey…we should celebrate with a hot cup of coffee! Let’s go inside and I’ll brew a pot!” She said as she pulled his face back to hers, giving him a grin.

On the corner of his mouth, Bulma could make out the tiniest, smallest smile. He tried to conceal it, but it was there and she grinned wider, looking into his eyes again. He sighed - half from exasperation, half from contentment.

“You shouldn’t be up, you silly idiot. I will brew the pot and bring your coffee to you in bed. No arguing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Aww, emotions are exhausting, aren't they Vegeta? ;)
> 
> -I'm trying to flesh General Quill out and make him less one dimensional for you all so you can tolerate his typical, bad military man gone rouge trope. He'll at least be entertaining lol
> 
> -I wanted to write a more...epic somehow for Vegeta's ascension, but this came out instead, and I think it actually fits better. You work off the resonance. So I introduce this as how he ascends, and then the implications will be acknowledged in his meditation of this in the next chapter. We'll see how it goes!
> 
> *Also, this is a soft update, for any of you that are interested, I'm opening a Patreon page called "The Saiyan Art Market". This is going to be where you'll find extended chapter bits and the lemony, raunchy chapters I'm too nervous to post online. You'll still be able to enjoy this Fic for free, uninterrupted of course! What I'm going to post is just extra content that would be nice to enjoy alongside the story you're already reading :) I'll post story updates and bits, alongside original fanart I'll be making to add illustration work to my Fic. Nice huh? I can't wait to get that underway. I'll be launching that with select art concepts on Feb. 25th. So look out for that! Wouldn't want you to miss exclusive content!


	11. Protein Bars, Senzu Beans, and Fights that are Fun!

Vegeta was wordless as he left the breakfast table the following morning. He felt her eyes on him as he was eating, but he ignored her. There was much to be meditated on, and he needed to concentrate to keep control of what came next after his transformation and the decision he would eventually make with Bulma. It was imperative that he didn’t sacrifice his progress in either category, but his transformation and training would always come first, before any alliances or earthly attachments.

He went upstairs after finishing his meal, grabbed some clothing, tucked it into his travel bag, and returned downstairs.

_What cabinet housed the protein bars?_

He walked into the kitchen and was met with an angry-faced Bulma.

“So, what, you’re nice to me yesterday, cold-shouldered the next? What’s your deal!?” She exclaimed.

“Will you keep your voice below a dull roar, or is that too much to ask for?” He growled, opening the first cabinet next to the fridge. No bars.

“Just give me an answer, Vegeta. What should I be expecting from you?” She attempted to lower her volume. Sort of.

“Woman, you have to know, at least by now, not to expect anything from me. I could be gone without a moment’s notice. You can remember that, can’t you?”

She tried again, adding an impatient huff, “I mean relative to how you treated me last night. I get kisses when you feel like it, then you act like it never happened. It’s a bit jarring.”

“I’m a warrior, not a lover, Bulma. It’s not in my nature.”

“That is such a bullshit claim,” she snorted. “You’re not above feelings and sending me on a roller-coaster ride isn’t a way to keep on my good side.”

“Then at least I’m keeping you on your toes,” he retorted, purposefully goading her. His strategy was to keep her at arm’s length before he would reel her back in when he returned. Naturally, this did not appease her in the slightest, proving only to stoke her fire.

“Why are you pulling me around? Why can’t you come out and say it?”

He ignored her questions and opened the third cabinet. _Bingo._ He grabbed the box, tucking it under his arm and into his bag. He turned around to give her his full attention.

“UGH! Just fucking answer me! Where are you going!?” She was back up in volume again, this time screeching in his face.

He could tell this was going a bit further than it needed to. He closed his eyes, steadying himself against her outrage.

“I’m setting out to train in the mountains. Leave me in peace. I will return soon. That should satisfy this argument.”

“Like hell it does! You barely answer a single question, and then you say you’re leaving? Ugh. Why do I even bother…just go. Like you said, I can’t keep you here. So, whatever.”

She turned to leave, and he grabbed her wrist. He pulled her close to him, then planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Behave yourself while I’m gone. I have things to contemplate. And I need peace to think. Understand?”

The look he was giving her told her everything. She needed to leave him be. She hesitated for a moment, before raising her hands to his face. She held his gaze for a moment before she leaned in, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Okay, I understand. But be back tonight, if you can. I have a surprise for you.”

She took something out of her pocket and placed it in his bag pocket.

“A cell phone, to keep in touch with me if you need anything.”

“I won’t, but thanks.”

He gave her one last look over his shoulder, before sliding and taking off through the patio door.

She sighed after he left, decompressing after their altercation by grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and chugging it.  
  


* * *

  
Vegeta would concede to her on some things, but he would never full-out give over control to her. He didn’t need anyone. He wanted to be with her - his instincts were practically yelling at him to stay for her and comfort her concerns - but his pride was waging war on his emotions and it was time he finally satisfied that part of himself would train and focus before returning to her presence - on his terms.

Little did he know, she wanted to embark on her own training. She reached for her phone in her pocket, dialing the number to her best friend’s house. “Hey Chi, it’s Bulma. Mind if I head over to chat?”  
  


* * *

“What a pleasant surprise, my dear friend. Tell me, what finally brings you over?” Chi-Chi had her hands on her hips as she stood in the front doorway to greet Bulma, smirking at her.

Bulma grinned and waved, “Come on, Chi. You know I’m a busy girl and all.”

“That’s right, making equipment for that crude and demanding Saiyan Prince. Say, how’s that going?”

Bulma rolled her eyes and kept her grin intact.

“I’m not here to talk about him…well, maybe later after some wine,” she said, feigning innocence and lifting the bottle out of her bag to hand it to Chi-Chi.

“Now I know you’re trying to get something out of me - You come bearing gifts,” she chuckled.

“All in due time. Let’s go sit and talk girl stuff!”

That had Chi-Chi full out laughing now, walking them both inside and over to the kitchen table.

  
“Wow so he left to train in the mountains, and you have nothing to really work on to keep you busy?”

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to go stir crazy, so I came here, for you and Goku.”

“Well of course you can talk to me, but what’s Goku got to do with our time together?”

“Well, see I wanted to ask him if he could give me some lessons in fighting. I’m bored, and instead of working out and doing endless crunches and squats, I figure I could learn a thing or two about fighting. I couldn’t ask Vegeta, he would turn me away so fast, probably telling me I was distracting him or something.”

Chi-Chi put her finger to her lips.

“Hmm, yeah you’re right. Well, I was a fighter too, you know.”

“Perfect! You both could train me while I’m here!” Bulma became excited momentarily before wincing when she remembered her side “Ooh. My side is killing me. Got any Ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, in the cabinet, I’ll get you some. Gee…what happened, if you don’t mind me asking? Vegeta didn’t-“

“No! No, he’s never hurt me, don’t worry. It was that stupid Army General Quill. It was unintentional, but he shot me with his photon laser gun. It hurts like a bitch. Vegeta actually helped me heal.”

Chi-Chi’s eyebrows shot straight up. “He… helped you?”

“Well yeah. Turns out, he’s not completely heartless. Who knew?”

Chi-Chi looked away; the smile gone from her face.

“Bulma, this is the same Saiyan that wanted to kill Goku and the rest of the Earth warriors just for existing. He and his race destroy planets for conquest….and sport. Evil is putting it lightly, he is…a demon incarnate, wicked, immoral-“

“Yes, that was what he was-”

“Still is capable of-“

“I suppose, but-“

“But what?!”

“Chi-Chi!” Bulma exclaimed, trying to restrain her friend, and herself, from escalating the argument further.

Bulma was the first to speak after the pause.

“I can’t excuse the deeds he has done in his past. The lives that have been lost…can never be recovered. He can never escape that part of him, and it will take a great deal of effort to prove he is worthy now. But…but. Vegeta has been changing since he’s stayed with me at Capsule Corp. It’s subtle, but the evidence is there. I believe we might make a hero out of him yet. Or at least be willing to give protection when worse villains threaten us. Only time will tell.”

“Okay. Well let’s just hope you’re not completely delusional, and if it turns out you’re wrong, you’re still alive to help stop him from destroying this planet along with the laundry list of others…”

Bulma took the pills from Chi-Chi’s hand when she offered them with a glass of water.

“How bad is your injury? Are you sure you want to learn to fight with your side like that?”

Bulma lifted her shirt to Chi-Chi, showing her the bandages, and as she unwound her dressing, Chi-Chi winced.

“Ooh that looks like it was pretty bad.” She looked at Bulma wearily, “Maybe Goku has a Senzu bean lying around. Goku!”

As soon as she shouted his name, he came in from around the corner, smiling impishly.

“Heh heh…hey ladies. How’s it goin’, Bulma? Long time, no see!”

Chi-Chi crossed her arms over her chest. “Goku, have you been eavesdropping this whole time?”

“Eh heh heh. Maybe…I sensed Bulma’s energy and caught some of the conversation…you said you wanted to learn some fighting, right?”

Chi-Chi looked like she was about to protest, but Bulma beat her to the punch.

“Yeah, that’s right, pal! I just want enough to practice with, you know…I’m not expecting to be a master by any means, okay? Just, good ole self-defense training.”

“Goku, do you have a Senzu bean by any chance, dear?” Chi-Chi asked her husband.

Goku looked up to the ceiling as he thought. “I might, lemme check.” He left the room to check the house.

Chi-Chi smiled at Bulma. “It wasn’t a flat-out no! We can fully heal you with that bean, no more pain!”

“Sweet! Yeah, absolutely! It’s been a couple days now, and I’m pretty over it!”

They sat back down and chatted some more before Goku eventually returned to the kitchen.

“Hey, Bulma! I found one! It was in between the couch cushion, right where I left it!” He held the bean in the air triumphantly before handing it over to his friend.

She thanked him before popping the bean in her mouth. She crunched it and swallowed. Instantly, she felt warmth at her side and pulled her shirt up again to remove the bandages. Where her flesh was once marred and bruised, went to red, then to pink, then it was as if she had never been shot. She jumped right out of her chair and flexed her stomach, stretching left to right.

“Yes!! Thank you Goku! You’re a real lifesaver, bud!” She gave him a quick hug before leaping away to do a couple jumping jacks.

“Whoo hoo! I don’t feel anything! You could say you helped me out of a real…bind…heh heh!”

Chi-Chi giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Very puny, Bulma.”

“Ah ha-ha ha…what?” Goku asked, scratching his head.

“Oh Goku…it was a pun, honey.”

“Okay...well anyways…let’s go train now!" Goku said.

“Okay, okay, yeah come on Chi-Chi, let’s have some fun!”

Both women went with Goku outside to give Bulma her first sparring lesson.  
  


* * *

  
“Alright Bulma. Now do it like we showed you.” She took her stance and shot her fists into the pads Chi-Chi was holding and finishing with a kick.

“Great, your form was good. What about her power, Chi-Chi?” Goku asked.

She put the pads down and took her own stance in front of Bulma.

“It was decent, but you’re gonna have to build that over time. I can tell you have some strength, but the more the better! Hold your hands up and feel this.”

Bulma did as instructed, and Chi-Chi struck her opened palms, left then right. Bulma held her hands, rubbing them after the demonstration.

“Damn, that hurt a little, and it looked like no effort at all,”

“You can’t waste energy. You must give firm jabs, just like that. Strike and pull back with precision and speed. Like I said, it will come in time.”

“Yeah, keep practicing the form I taught you, keep a strong foundation, and when the time comes, let the opponent have it! Give it all you got. Got it?” Goku asked her.

Bulma smiled at her friends. “Yeah, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea! Say, can we stop for today? Do you mind if I stay for dinner, Chi?”

“It’s no trouble at all! You’re always welcome for a meal. I’m cooking trout!” As she finished her words, Gohan touched down from the sky, carrying a sack over his shoulder.

“Hey guys. Hey Bulma! What’s up, why the visit?” He walked over the Bulma and she pulled him in for a hug.

“Hey, kiddo! Mom and dad were giving me some lessons in fighting, we’re all gonna eat dinner now. You hungry?”

“Yeah! I’m starving! Guess what? Me and Krillin found the last dragon ball! We’re ready for some wishin’!"

“Awesome! That’s terrific!” Bulma crowed.

“Heck yeah! I’ll bring this up to the lookout tomorrow, and we’ll be set!”

“I’ll come with you!”

“The more the merrier,” he told her with a toothy grin.

They went inside and caught up for a while before Chi-Chi served them all a large feast of fish, potatoes, and leafy vegetables.

“This has been the best day I’ve had in a long time. Thanks guys I really needed this. Yum, Chi. You did a great job on the trout,” Bulma said.

“Yeah mom, I was missing your cooking while I was gone,” Gohan added, stuffing his mouth with potatoes.

Goku was way too preoccupied to comment, munching on carrots and fish.

Chi-Chi smiled widely at the praise. “Always a treat to hear my cooking is well appreciated.”

After they finished eating, Goku and Gohan naturally stuffed themselves silly and went straight to bed. Bulma thanked her friend for the hundredth time and said her goodbye before heading out in her hovercar.

Bulma made it home just as the sun had finally set on the day and, upon returning, she eyed the GR. She went to open it and found no Saiyan prince inside.

_Huh, he’s usually finishing up at this point_… she went inside and padded her way through the first floor, then upstairs. She knocked on his door.  
  
No reply.

She sighed, disappointment present on her face.

She walked over to her own room and shut herself inside. Closing her eyes, she fell backwards onto her bed. She frowned. She told him to come back tonight. She had an important surprise for him. She had perfected the formula to give him a new tail. She wanted to give him a gift and he couldn’t even be bothered to come back on time to receive it. Damn stubborn prince.

_I just wanted to give you something to try and make sure it works._

* * *

Somewhere off in the distance, Vegeta was just finishing his training for the day. Powering down and falling back into the grass, he tensed and relaxed his sore muscles. The wind had picked up, giving him goosebumps as the sweat on his body cooled him.

As he relaxed, he started to think back to her. Bulma. She was such an enigma. So perplexing. One minute, she was verbally roasting him alive - the next, tender and caring. He’d never admit it, but she put him through his own ups and downs.

He liked it. He liked her challenging behavior. Above off, he liked her feistiness. It was refreshing to have a worthy opponent, even if it was only verbally. His instincts were telling him it was time. Pride and Saiyan tradition be damned to hell. There were only three of them left anyway! What difference did it make, he thought solemnly. It was ridiculous to hold out. To keep himself from what he wanted. There were no Saiyans around to judge him or ridicule him for his desires. No one to tell him no. Not even himself. He decided as soon as he went back to Capsule Corp, that he would have her as his. No more holding back.

As he planned what he would say, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about how he would claim her at last.


	12. Wishing, More Thinking, and Tail-Giving!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BundyShoes just finished editing this chapter. Bless her, this chapter was boring for me to write. I mean, I had some fun with Gohan and Goku, don't get me wrong. But I don't wanna get off track. Lol

Bulma woke up early the next morning and gave Gohan a quick call before she planned on heading over. She knew she didn’t really _need_ to go with Gohan, as he’d be quicker without her, but she wanted a distraction from her anger and disappoint that Vegeta didn’t show up the night before. It made her want to get out for a while, especially since for the rest of the day she was booked with work and meetings, and then later was her mother's company banquet that she hosted twice a year. The only good thing about those events was she could dress in gowns and dance to fancy music.

“Hello?”

“Hey Gohan. You up?”

“I am now,” she heard him yawn.

“Sorry, I figured we could get a jumpstart on it. I wanna have a little adventure before my business meeting at 3. So get ready! I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay, Bulma. Sounds good.”

She hung up and then stretched her limbs. The clock read 8:30AM. Perfect just the right amount of time for them to go up to the Lookout and make it back for lunch at noon.

  
She pulled on a shirt and some leggings, then brushed her hair and teeth. She pulled at her cheeks, noticing some lines on her face from the creases of her pillow. _Great,_ she thought. _I’ll put on some light makeup._ She pulled out her cosmetic bag and applied things here and there in the mirror. When she was satisfied, she hustled downstairs and grabbed a freshly baked scone from the table in the kitchen.

“Where are you off to, dear?” her mother asked.

“Just over to Goku’s house, then the Lookout. We have something important to do there, then I’ll be home at noon for lunch, I promise.”

Panchy handed her a cup of coffee and smiled. “Okay, hunny. Be safe, love ya!"

Bulma smiled back and pecked her on the cheek. “You too. See ya!”

Bulma jumped into her hovercraft moments later, one-handing her coffee and scone as she prepared the ship to leave the garage.

* * *

In no time at all, she made it over to the Son’s home, stepping out and knocking rapidly on the door. Chi-Chi answered the door.

“Wow, twice in one week aren’t, we lucky?”

Bulma smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha, Chi. You knew I was coming over. Where’s Gohan?”

Chi-Chi sighed and looked over her shoulder where her son was standing, banana in one hand, bag with the last dragon ball in the other.

“Hey, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

Chi-Chi was still standing in the doorway, blocking his escape.

“Uh-uh. Not without you promising you’ll be back for your morning lessons.”

Gohan visibly deflated.

“Yes, mom. We’ll be home for that - and lunch too!”

Chi-Chi crossed her arms, but eventually let him pass.

“You'd better. Alright, have fun, okay? And be safe!” She called to them both as they quickly made their way over to the hovercraft.

Chi-Chi shut the front door and Bulma and Gohan were officially in the clear.

“Phew. Your mom is a tough cookie, huh?”

Gohan sighed, shaking his head.

“You have no idea. Hey, can I make a request?”

Bulma had the hovercraft on at this point, ready to launch back into the sky.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Can I fly us over? It will be much easier!”

She looked down at the controls of her craft. Her mind recalled a similar request from a certain Saiyan she wasn’t in the mood to think about now. Her face hardened as she remembered his proposition to her, ensuring her safety and his efficiency. She looked at Gohan, who was currently pouting at her, hands clasped, begging for her affirmation.

“Well, see…I don’t like flying without the hovercraft. It freaks me out, I…”

He deepened his frown, laying the “poor me” act on real thick.

She let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. You’re lucky we’re so close."

He crowed happily before shouldering his bag, picking her up, and launching into the sky. She dug her nails into his clothing, looking anywhere but down.

“Be careful please, Gohan!”

“No worries, Bulma! Besides, you said you wanted a little adventure!”

She gave out a little screech as he turned left in the sky. “Yeah, well I don’t wanna lose my breakfast on the way!”

Gohan laughed as he held Bulma tightly, trying his best to not make her regret saying yes to him. Gohan was much smaller than Bulma, but he was stronger, able to keep her steady in his arms so she wouldn’t feel as sick.

“Are we almost there?” Bulma asked, not daring to peer out from over her shoulder.

“Yeah! I can see it from here!”

“Good!”

Gohan ascended quickly when he reached the middle of the sky platform, taking off like a rocket and reaching the top of the Lookout with ease, as promised. He stepped softly at the top and let Bulma down slowly, making sure not to jostle her further. She held her face in her hand, trying to breathe deeply and rid herself of the gut-wrenching nausea she was feeling. She put her finger up as a sign to give her a minute before they could proceed. She felt he was much better than Goku, but paces behind Vegeta in fluidity and grace, and it made her resentful all over again, chastising her mind for going back to him a second time.

“Hey, Bulma? You could just relax here while you try to feel better… I’ll be done in a flash. You know how they like to talk - I’ll drop it off and be done with it!”

She hesitated before nodding, deciding it was for the best. She wanted to keep her promise to be back in time. Gohan glided over to the steps of the temple and looked inside for Dende.

“Hey, Dende! Where are you?”

Dende had been meditating in his quarters when he heard footsteps entering the temple.

“Gohan?” He stepped out of his hallway and into the main foyer.

“Hey Dende! Look what I’ve got!” Gohan raised the dragon ball high over his head, face beaming with a wide smile.

Dende smiled in return, running over to join his friend.

As the two chatted, Bulma recovered from the flight over. She resorted to taking a seat near the edge of the large platform. She would never carelessly dangle her feet off the edge like Goku would, but she would sit crossed, peering over the side and into the vast sky, marveling at the wonderful view the Lookout gave. She smiled when she thought about her friend. Then, as her mind drifted to her latest experiment, an idea popped in her head. She met Goku first and he was her best friend. If Vegeta didn’t care enough to be home with her so she could try giving him a new tail, then she’d try it on Goku first! She grinned wickedly to herself.

  
_That will teach him not to ignore my requests. It’s only fair I let the first Saiyan I ever met get his tail back, after all…_

“See look, Bulma! All done! Let’s get home so mom can’t scold me.”

She laughed and agreed before immediately growing quiet as she remembered how they got up to the Lookout.

“_Ughh_. Let’s get this over with.” She groaned and let Gohan pick her up.

He made for his decent from the platform as carefully as he could, all the while humming happily to himself.

“Oh yeah, Dende told me something, by the way.”

“W-what did he tell you?” Bulma answered.

“Just that this set of dragon balls only grants two wishes, so we’ll have to make them count, whatever we plan to wish for.”

Bulma thought on it and clung to the boy as he weaved through the sky.

“Yeah, we really haven’t discussed that yet, have we?”

"I figured we were collecting them just to have them, for whatever we might need in the future. But who knows how soon, right? Never a bad idea to be prepared!”

“Yeah, that’s the right idea, bud!”

Gohan thought on it for a moment.

“Everyone we needed to bring back to life is living again, right?”

“I think so.”

“Oh! Here’s an idea. What about fixing Vegeta?”

That had Bulma caught completely off guard and proceeded to burst out in laughter.

“_Fix_ him? How do you mean? Chronic anger and brooding doesn’t need to be fixed with dragon balls, Gohan.”

“Come on, Bulma, I wasn't joking, and I meant about what he’s done. You know, killing all those people, destroying those planets…. maybe we can’t fix everything the Saiyans did in the past, but at least we can help Vegeta be better. And people can stop thinking he’s evil. And he can really stop being bad and officially be an ally!”

Bulma allowed herself to think on what he said with validity.

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that. I also don’t think that wish can be granted, since it has several parts to it. You’d have to wish the people and planets back, then you’d have to wish Vegeta never encountered Frieza all those years ago, not to mention bring back planet Vegeta-sai and the ramifications of that for you guys…I think there’s another way we can go about ‘fixing’ him, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right…maybe we can get everyone together and see what they think!”

“Not a bad idea. We’ll introduce parts of your wishes…and by parts I mean the ones that won’t make Vegeta mad,” she smirked.

Gohan touched back down at his home several minutes after and Bulma almost kissed the ground when her feet met the solid turf.

“Cool! Back earlier than expected!” Gohan said.

“That was a nice trip to start off our day, right?”

“Yeah!”

Bulma smiled at him before she thought back to her plan.

“Say, Gohan, will you do me a favor?”

Gohan looked at her and nodded.

“Will you go get your dad for me? I have something to ask him.”

He nodded again and ran inside to get Goku.

“Hey, Bulma, what’s up?” Goku greeted as he made his way out through the front door.

Bulma bounced excitedly before she got a grip on herself.

“How would you like to grow your tail back?”

Goku looked at her with confusion.

“How is that possible, Bulma? I’m too old for a new tail.”

“Not if I can regenerate it. Wanna come with me to my lab?”

Goku stood for a moment, lost in thought.

“So you could grow me a new tail and it would be as if I never had it cut off?”

“Yes! I was gonna test it on Vegeta first, but he’s too busy thinking and training in the mountains right now to let me try it out. You can be my guinea pig!”

“Oh boy, um okay…no needles, right?”

“Nope!” She grinned wider at him.

“Good! Cause I hate needles. Okay, let’s go!”

She took off in her hovercraft and Goku flew beside her until they reached Capsule Corp grounds.

When they landed, Bulma got out and walked with Goku across the yard and over to her lab.

Once inside, Bulma went to work getting her equipment ready. Goku caught sight of something sharp on a tray and instantly tensed.

“Bulma! You said no needles!” He panicked and made to retreat from the lab.

“Stop right there! I’m not using a needle on you! Chill out and come over here. Jeeze.”

He looked at her timidly, before coming back and sitting down on the metal table next to her, “Do you promise, Bulma?”

Bulma looked at her friend and sighed.

“Yes, Goku, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?” He held his hand up to face level, pinky extended.

She shook her head and grabbed his pinky with hers, annoyed but compliant.

“What are we, 10?”

“It’s the best way to keep a promise, Bulma.”

“Alright, alright. None of this is gonna hurt you, okay? You’re my best friend. I’d never do that to you.” Goku looked at her, noting how serious she was, and laid back on the table, satisfied with her sincerity.

“I’m going to put this mask over your face and put you to sleep for about an hour while I work on your DNA compound. I can’t have you asking me questions and fidgeting. Okay?” He nodded and she slipped the mask over his face.

“Breathe deeply, and sleep for a little bit, okay pal?” Goku put his thumb up and did as he was told.

When Goku woke up, he was super groggy. He blinked back to consciousness and turned to see Bulma cleaning up some lab stuff in her sink.

“Bulma…” he called to her.

She walked over to him, grinning happily. “Hey there, sunshine. How was your nap?”

“Like I didn’t get enough-“

He felt something move next to his thigh, and when he went to grab for it, he felt fur.

“Woah…” He looked down at his side and there it was…his brand-new tail!

“It worked, Goku! It was a complete success. It’s official, your friend is a super genius!”

He moved his new appendage left and right, and it was like his body remembered having it, because it was able to grab a water bottle off the counter and give it to him without dropping it.

“This is amazing like, _beyond_ amazing. It’s a miracle. It’s been so long since I’ve had one of these, I forgot I even had one!”

“Oh I remember. You were so cute with your little tail when we were younger. I thought it was freaky at first, but I got over it. Now look at you! You’re a whole Saiyan again!”

“Thanks Bulma! This is so cool. Wait’ll I show Chi-Chi- she’s gonna flip!”

“Yeah she will!” They both shared a laugh.

Goku got up and gave his dear friend a hug.

“Thanks Bulma. I didn’t really need it, since I was happy enough without it, but it was a piece of who I was and now it’s back! Thanks,” he told her, pulling away as they both walked side by side out to the front walkway.

“Hey, since we have all the dragon balls now, Gohan and I were thinking of what to wish for. We should brainstorm with the gang later this week!”

“Great idea, Bulma. Yeah, no thoughts yet on what to wish for, but when we think of some, I know they’ll come in handy!”

She nodded and smiled.

“Alright, I have to go eat with my parents. Tell Chi-Chi I said we’ll make plans soon!”

“Alright, will do. Thanks again for the new tail! See ya soon!” Goku waved and, as he took off, she grinned up at the sky.

She checked her phone and saw that the clock read 11:50AM

_Awesome, right on time for lunch_, she thought as she made her way to the kitchen.  
  


* * *

  
She thought back to Goku’s procedure where she had crafted him a new tail from his DNA. She upheld her end of their promise. It just took a little longer to make a balm to rub on him instead of a needle, like she had planned. But Bulma wanted a clear conscience.

_It served as a nice challenge too,_ she thought as she sat down at the table, ready to enjoy some well-earned lunch.

Vegeta decided it was finally time to make his way home. He got up from his seated place on a large boulder and gathered his belongings. He knew Bulma was going to be pissed at him when he showed up, but he had to brush those thoughts aside. He was a Saiyan on a mission now and he had to make it back and face her, face what future he had planned for them going forward when he finally bonded them together.

Every time he thought about it, his stomach constricted in anxious anticipation. He would never have to be alone again. He would protect her with everything he had inside of him, every fiber of his essence. He would finally be bonded to someone with whom he could be proud of, a woman who had helped make him someone to be proud of.

An elite soldier that had transcended into that of a legendary warrior.

As much as he wanted to reserve all credit for himself, in his heart he knew the truth... and with this truth, he was about to make the most important bond from his home planet.

It wasn’t traditional by any means, but it was the best he could give to honor his Saiyan heritage. He felt she deserved so much better than him- he fallen Saiyan Prince. She proved she deserved more. But this was the best he could offer her. He hoped it would prove to be enough.


	13. Dancing, Exchanges, and The Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is probably a long-awaited chapter, where we finally establish something solid between our two lovebirds. I hope you enjoy, this was pretty fun to write. It was hard to write the build up, but then I got into a rhythm and this is what came of it! Tell me what you think in the comments. ;)
> 
> **A round of applause for another chapter edited by BundyShoes!** :)))

Bulma made it home from her meeting in the evening, just an hour before her mother’s banquet. She sped home to try on her new dress she ordered for the event, wanting to make sure it hugged all the right places. It was a cream, floor-length dress, beaded and pearled, like the spray of the sea. She couldn’t wait - she wanted to wear it to the event to feel beautiful. She hadn’t felt that in a while, since she was always busy toiling away in her lab or rushing herself from one social gathering to the next. She wanted to feel beautiful tonight. She was single, she was a little lonely, and she was ready to feel admired.

She went straight up to her room when she touched down from work and headed right into her closet. The dress was resting on her chair in her closet, and she paused to look at it. It was even more beautiful than what was advertised. She was impressed. It was sleeveless, so she set to work on her makeup, knowing she’d only have to slip in and zip it up.

She set her curling iron to her tresses, curling and recurving until every large ringlet was in place. She sprayed it all with hairspray to keep its shape. She reapplied her makeup, putting perfection on top of already perfected foundation, mascara, and eyeliner, making things lighter, brighter, and wider for an even more dramatic look. Her final touch was her highlighter, which she applied in every place the light would shine.

Finally - no more oil, grease, and ponytails. She could let her hair down, wear her favorite makeup, and enjoy her night.

One night - she only wanted this one night to have some fun, then she’d get back to work.

She put her dress on carefully and assessed her appearance in her full-length mirror. It only took her one more glance over herself to feel ready to meet everyone in the banquet hall.

On her walk over, she looked up into the night sky. The sun had long set and the stars were starting to show through the clouds. They were shining so bright, she wished she could sit out here instead and enjoy the night music. But there were people waiting for her to join them for the evening’s events. She walked up to the doors, took a deep breath, and opened them wide, feeling the warmth of the building and smelling the food she was craving after a long day of business. She walked in elegantly, but her inner hunger was leading her to where the smells were coming from.

* * *

Vegeta didn’t want to come to this garish event but was tempted with Panchy’s cooking to stay for at least the food. He vaguely wondered where the woman was tonight, but figured she was too busy - that is, until he watched her take all the air from the room.

Quiet gasps could be heard as she floated across the banquet hall. He took in her appearance. Her dress, her hair, her features - everything was striking, and it stole his next breath. He was stunned speechless, watching as she glided to the food tables. He noticed the twirl in her skirt as she put things on her plate and then as she glanced casually around the room until she spotted him and watched as her eyes narrowed to slits.

He looked away quickly, tucking his arms further into their crossing. She started walking towards him, knife pitched in her fist.

_Kai, help him_...he was certain by now that not even a Saiyan female could hold a candle to her.

“Where have you been? I specifically asked you to come see me in my lab and you never showed. What’s your deal?” She asked him, taking said knife and pointing it in his direction.

Wherever his cool had run off to, he managed to find it as he answered her.

“I told you before I left. I needed time to think and train. It was a simple matter of establishing peace and focus. I wasn’t avoiding you,” he replied as he rose to meet her.

She took in his appearance. He was striking in his black tux, and the subtle use of cologne had her entranced. He had a good natural smell to him, like mahogany mixed with leather, and the musk he wore enhanced it. He was already handsome enough, but tonight he was gorgeous - muscles covered under fabric, but present all the same, face angled and regal, and his hair shock straight, a perfect black flame that drew eyes from every corner of the space to him.

Bulma needed all her self-control to not do anything that would be considered inappropriate. Or ridiculous…. like drool.

“You look quite sharp, Vegeta. You sure know how to clean up.”

“Yes, well, male Earth fashion is simple. And your father had a suit tailored for me, since Panchy insisted I attend this event.”

Bulma processed what he told her. “You could’ve called and asked me to help…,” she smirked.

“You think I know how to work your archaic technology?”

She huffed with anger at that, but as she worked on her plate of appetizers, popping grapes and cheese into her mouth with a toothpick, she caught it - a glimmer of humor sounding in his voice. She sighed. She felt he was reading her like a playbook. She set her plateful of foods down on the table, deciding to come back to it later.

“I’m becoming predictable, aren’t I?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, not in the slightest. Although I’m sure you know you’re a bit of a powder keg. All it takes is one lit match and you go up in glorious flame,” he told her, that insufferable smirk playing on his lips.

Her eyes flitted back up to his, heart skipping a beat.

“I…I’ve been keeping myself busy. You’ll be happy to know it’s kept me out of trouble…”

“As I had hoped. Kami knows you need things to keep that mind from idle thoughts.”

“What other thoughts could I be thinking?” she asked innocently.

His small smirk turned wicked with the lift of his thick brow, “I have theories.”

Her own smirk was back. “If only you’d be lucky enough to see those theories become fact…, she walked away from him then, showing him her back and having his mouth parted slightly, brow furrowed.

It dawned on him that he’d been had and that she was playing with him.

She won that exchange…game, set, match.

She was still mad at him though, he had picked up on that as she'd shifted her tone and walked away from him. He knew he would change her mood towards him tonight.

Bulma made it across the floor and closer to the stage where music was currently filling the air - a popular tune now set to an elegant arrangement, its melody was familiar and upbeat. She found herself caught up in the easy rhythm, letting herself get lost in its flow.

Some of the men from their company made their way over to her. Paul, Stan, and Michael, all members of the Board wanted to dance with her…but she didn't want to dance with them, so she twirled away with a wink and a smile.

Vegeta had to have cut in from somewhere behind her, because somehow she found herself in his arms, his glare inches away from her face.

“Woman. What are you doing?”

She scoffed, “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m single, and I’m being flirty and having fun. Is there a problem with that?”

He caught her off guard by dipping her low, and he surprised her even further with his dancing ability as he gracefully led her on the floor; the cluster of people dancing around them stepped back to give space and watch. 

“Where did you learn to dance like this?” she asked after a few turns and steps.

“Why does this astonish you? I am a prince, Bulma. Not only is it proprietary for royalty to be skilled in dancing, but it is a requirement for elite warriors to grasp the concept of coordinated movements,” he sounded as though this should be common knowledge.

Regardless, it surprised her how well he carried himself as he confidently guided them in an elegant waltz.

“Yes, well, you’re not exactly like any princes I’ve ever met,” she grinned, continuing their repartee.

“And you meet princes how often?”

“Well, they are far and few between on Earth nowadays, but you’d be surprised, your highness,” she winked.

He growled and twirled her effortlessly to the edge of the dance space.

“Don’t want to be center of attention, my prince? Want me all to yourself?”

“As a matter of fact-”

“Good evening, everyone! I’m so glad you all could make it to our lovely home tonight! We will be serving dessert shortly, so make your way to the tables and serve yourself!”

Panchy smiled as she saw her guests make their way to the dessert tables, where there were several servings of cakes and cups of tea provided by the staff.

Bulma took advantage of this to break away from Vegeta and walk to the tables to grab a slice of cake. Dinner be damned, she wanted dessert now.

“Bulma! Long time no see, huh?”

Yamcha stepped towards Bulma, a woman on his arm. They both waved to her as she quickly steeled her emotions.

She wasn’t going to lie to herself. It still stung to see that he appeared to have moved on. But he had made his choice - let him be this woman’s problem now, not hers. She grabbed a plate of cake and a champagne glass, before turning back to them, an award-winning smile plastered on her face.

“Hello, are you both enjoying the party?” she asked politely.

“Why yes, we are, thanks for having us. You have a lovely home, Bulma!”

Bulma felt her cheeks begin to hurt with the tightness of her smile. “Yes, of course! Well, dig in and enjoy!”

The couple smiled at her request and grabbed their own cakes. Bulma waved and made a hasty exit with her provisions in tow.

She had only been there for about 30 minutes and she was already done for the night as she watched Yamcha move on with this new woman. She was happy for him, but only to an extent and, as she reached for her abandoned plates of food at the table, she intended on enjoying her night now on her own terms. She decided enough people had seen her anyway, her need for attention was satisfied…

That was, at least, until she saw Vegeta talking to Cynthia Frock from the finance department.

Bulma was officially finished with her night at that point but took pause. Call her a masochist, since it was no secret to herself that she had feelings for Vegeta and seeing him talk to that bimbo had her seething, but she chose to hunker down for a moment to eat her dinner and watch the show.

"Hey there, handsome."

Vegeta saw this woman walking over to him and instantly decided it was time for him to go back to the main building. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her, as on his home planet, she looked strikingly similar to what would classify as a whore. And with how forward she was being with him, he could tell where her intentions were and he turned his nose up to it. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted to find _his _woman.

Right now. 

"What's a good-looking man like you doing over here all by his lonesome?"

He crossed his arms firmly, steeling himself against this creature, “Did you consider that maybe I wanted to be alone?"

She smirked, “ A tough guy, huh? Well, well, I do like a challenge..." She leaned in closer to him and he stepped back, willing his palm to spark with energy. She saw the florescent blue licking his open hand and tensed in fear, taking her own steps back now.

"Is that so? Well, consider me a challenge you'll be wise not to rise against or you might not live to see the end of this gathering, creature." The show of his Ki alone had her quaking, but the look he gave her had her tripping over her high-heeled feet in her attempts to back away.

"Smart woman. Now, go occupy yourself elsewhere."

She did just that.

Bulma had enough sense not to clap, but she really wanted to. Vegeta putting Cynthia in her place was now one of her new favorite memories, since men on Earth would flock to get a chance to be with a woman like that. But Vegeta wasn't from Earth.

Far from it.

She finished her plate and, as she got up, was spotted by her father.

"Hey, Bulma. Are you enjoying your night?"

Her face lit up with an easy smile, but she was done with being here and wanted some peace and quiet at this point. "Yeah, I'm just gonna go to bed now though, I've had my fun."

"Are you alright, dear?" 

"Yeah, dad. Just tired, is all."

"Okay. Well, I just wanted to say you look wonderful tonight. I'm so proud of you and your accomplishments. I wouldn't have anyone else working by my side or helping lead our company. I love you, Bulma.”

At his words, she felt her eyes well up. "I love you too, dad. Thanks," she told him and gave him a hug.

Vegeta caught this exchange before he saw himself out. He knew where she'd be headed. His night with Bulma was far from over as he glided over to the main building, silent and out of sight.

She told her father goodnight as she made her way over to the exit. Now, seemingly alone, she headed through the main door before sprinting shortly across the yard, into the main building, and to the safety of her room, waiting until her door was closed to finally let herself slide down against it. She sat there for a beat before sighing and getting up to take out her favorite bottle of wine. She intended to keep a glass full as she drank her sorrows away with the beautiful sight of a night lit sky from her balcony window.

As she made it halfway through her second glass, she heard a knock at her door. She deflated slightly, as she wanted to brood alone, and stood to answer it. It was, to her surprise, Yamcha. Why was he over here?

“What are you doing in here, B? I thought you’d be enjoying the party? I watched you walk off, just wanted to see if you were okay.”

She sighed in annoyance. He was ever persistent to be present in her mind. But then she thought back to a time when they were actually very good friends, and this helped to steady her patience.

“I wasn’t really feeling well, so I came here to relax.”

She finished and gave him a smile. He smiled back.

“There’s the B I know. Well hurry back, we’re honoring your father’s latest achievement soon!”

“Well thanks, Yamcha. Go have fun, okay? I'll uh...come back soon.”

“Okay,” he nodded, and turned to head back out to the banquet.

She gave out a breath she was holding, before it was stolen from her yet again.

* * *

“You lied to him, you know.”

She gave a startled yelp as she heard a deep voice call to her from somewhere in her room. She rolled her eyes as soon as she recognized who it belonged to.

“You know, I came up here to be alone, Vegeta. Quit being a creep, all silent and sneaky. Where are you?”

“Down here, woman.” She looked over to the source of his words and, sure enough, he was stretched out on her bed, lying casually atop the covers with his arms tucked behind his head.

She strode forward to stand over him. “What do you want?”

He breathed out and gave her a smirk. “Same thing as you - to be alone.”

“I seriously doubt that, otherwise you wouldn’t have come to my room,” She countered, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“Good point. I guess I saw an opportunity to escape the noise and conversate with you, my lovely housemate,” he offered leisurely.

“Okay, what have you done with Vegeta, you body-snatcher? This isn’t like you. Did you have a drink? Or maybe five? Just a guess...”

He sat up and she moved back a few steps.

“Nope. Just high on clarity, I suppose. I noticed the weakling was here with some new woman. I wonder what came over him to come here tonight. As if it would do him any good. Little does he know, he doesn’t have possession of you. I do.”

Bulma let out a laugh. “I know, right? Like, why do I even give a sh – _wait_…what did you just say?”

Vegeta got up from the bed to stand before her.

“No, no one..._owns_ me. And that’s not something you would ever…_seriously_, what has gotten into you?” She asked him, trying to decide if she was angry...or afraid. 

As he strode forward, she took more steps back to match.

“I’ve come to officially claim you, Bulma. I should have come out with it weeks ago, but I didn’t want there to be any reservations. Now that your buffoon of an ex-lover has a new diversion and will stop making a fool of himself in my presence, I figured this was as best a time as any to tell you what I have discovered.”

She continued taking steps back until she reached her wall, officially out of places to go as he closed in on her. She raised her chin defiantly, looking down her nose at him.

“Vegeta, you’re disinterested in me every other day. I don’t see why seeing my ex preoccupied changes anything.”

He smirked at her, like there was a secret she didn’t know and he couldn’t be bothered to tell her but was very eager to show her. He put his hands on the wall behind her head, effectively boxing her in. His head dipped down, momentarily staring at her neck as he slowly made his way to look into her eyes.

“I chose you, Bulma.”

As he said those words, she became fully aware of his proximity.

She felt like she would suffocate with how close he currently was - he was stealing her space and her air as she puffed out shallow breaths. She was physically affected by him. She had always found him attractive, but right now he was being downright alluring and... _sexy_. She was close to giving in when she felt him cupping his hand around her neck and pulling her in.

“You’re mine - I chose you. You’re my mate.”

Before she could react, he descended on her neck, giving it a strong but tender bite. She closed her eyes and found she couldn’t scream at him. He had covered her mouth with his hand as he bit down on her, relishing in the sensation. She gripped above his elbows and dug her nails into his flesh, angry with him for branding her, and frustrated with herself for not knowing whether to push him away…or pull him in.

It wasn’t very deep, but it would leave a mark, and Bulma knew it was meant to be permanent. She opened her eyes after several moments and angrily found her senses again. He slowly laved her flesh, forcing her to moan loudly from its pleasant tingle. She bit back another moan as he left open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, past her neck, etching a clear path for her chest. She let out a sound of surprise as he reached the swell of her breast and she tried to back him up with both hands. He didn’t budge, keeping her in place with his strong grasp.

“What are you doing,” she hissed down at him as he brought his face back up to hers.

“What do you think I’m doing, Bulma? I’m claiming you as my mate.”

Her eyes grew wide as he told her this.

“I know you don’t actually mean this. You’re just trying to have a good time with me - one emotional moment tonight and then cold and unfeeling the next. I want something meaningful. I’m stopping this before it goes too far and I get hurt!”

She tried to escape his grasp, but he was too powerful. He held her tight enough to tell her so.

There was no escaping tonight.

“Stop talking, woman. Don’t you feel what I’ve already done? I’ve marked you! You’re already mine and my instincts don’t make mistakes - they’ve kept me alive through the greatest siege in the galaxy. You are mating with me tonight and I’ve scarcely begun - go see for yourself.”

He let her go and she stumbled her way into her bathroom.

She flipped on the lights and her reflection revealed that he was telling her the truth. His bite was prominent and slightly bleeding as she touched it gingerly with her fingers. She thumbed it curiously, before remembering what he said and quickly shuddered.

_So it’s official then. I basically just eloped with an alien prince._ She almost began laughing in hysterics but her fury burned right through it as she scowled.

She marched out of the bathroom and found him perched on her bed, arms crossed, staring intently at her with interest.

“There’s no going back now, Bulma. I am now yours and you are mine - forever. You will never take another mate, nor will I for as long as we live. We are bound together, even in death. Whether you accept this or not, your body will not allow you to disavow me. Nor when you make your mark on me, will I look at, touch, or think of anyone else in the same likeness as you. Saiyan or otherwise. Our bond will slowly grow in time, you will have access to my emotions, thoughts, and perhaps even dreams. Likewise, for me but with yours. You are now mine, from this moment to the edge of eternity. Any severance of this union means pain of death. This is the greatest honor I could ever bestow upon you, as you are now royalty by courtship - or marriage if you prefer. I am your husband; you are my wife.”

Bulma stood completely silent as her brain processed everything he had said. He had actually stunned her speechless. Her hand went to cup his mark and she could still feel his teeth there on her skin, tenderly mouthing the flesh after the bite. She was so aroused at this point and, undoubtedly, he already knew this information.

One bite was all it took – and it was all over for her. Her choice allegedly taken from her, and she couldn’t believe it. She was mad as hell, but her current state of titillation made her question what really made her mad – that he had the audacity to steal this from her, or that he bound her to him against her will in such a seductive and erotic manner. Either way, she wanted to curse him for making her crave more, and making her not want to care that he took away such an important choice.

“W-what does this mean for us now?”

He slowly raised his eyes to meet her own, she could see the unbridled lust lurking just below the surface. He was hungry for her, and it just made her current situation worse because she was aroused and conflicted. It had all happened so fast, poor Bulma didn’t have a chance to properly take it in. She was still angry with him on a superficial level, but because she understood what this meant to him, she held herself still. He laughed quietly.

“Bulma, you tell me. You’re a smart woman. What happens on a honeymoon, after a husband and wife wed?” She looked at him silently for a moment, before her brain stopped short-circuiting and she could form words.

“We…we consummate.”

He nodded and smiled at her with a wicked glint. He offered her his hand as he sat patiently on the bed. All he had to do was wait for her now. He was ready.


	14. Bittersweet Mating and Unimaginable Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slacking. I was supposed to have posts in my Patreon by yesterday, but I got busy! So I finished this to gift to you all that follow this story as a trade-off, since I needed to post anyway. Hopefully this will satisfy you...for now. BE WARNED THIS IS QUITE THE SEXY CHAPTER. There is the scent of lemon ahead, and now that you've been properly informed, please enjoy this tidbit of a chapter.
> 
> -I've also been moving this story around from Mature to Explicit, simply because it's going to get gritty and...inappropriate so I might as well switch it over before I get in trouble. :D If this puts my story into purgatory or causes it to not get seen, I'm going to be sad lol
> 
> ***The wonderful BundyShoes has officially edited this chapter!***

“We…we consummate.”

He nodded and smiled at her wickedly. He offered her his hand as he sat patiently on the bed. All he had to do was wait for her now.

He was ready.

* * *

“I, Vegeta, we…we’re married? That’s what you want?”

He shook his head with a small smile playing on his lips. Bulma nervously extended her hand before he gripped it and pulled her into him, effectively making her mind up for her.

“You still can’t feel it, can you?”

“Um,” Bulma started as she stood between his legs, dazed as he went back to her neck, giving her heated sensations all traveling down towards her pelvis. Vegeta shifted to place her on the bed next to him. He rolled on top of her to straddle her, sinfully leaving kisses all over her upper half, licking, sucking and squeezing all her visible places before he started to take her dress off.

She flinched and Vegeta gave her a deep chuckle, sending a shiver down from her spine to her toes.

“Bulma, you’re going to have to get comfortable, otherwise this isn’t going to be enjoyable for either of us. I know what you want, I can practically smell it. You can’t hide your desire from me, so just give in. Save that fire for when you’re screaming my name.”

She scoffed, puffing her chest up at him in indignation. He pulled her bra from her body, breaking the clasps.

“You’re so full of yourself, that if you weren’t hot as hell, I’d tell you were you could shove that cockiness,” she told him viciously, all while moaning as he worked his tongue over her now exposed chest.

“You mean...other than inside of you?” he said, and Bulma felt his smile on her nipple. 

Her face went hot with fury. “You arrogant son of a bitch!“ she seethed.

“_Shh_. You talk, so much. Just shut up and enjoy this.” He said through his teeth as he grabbed and sucked his way over her chest. Her body involuntarily arched, allowing Vegeta to take her large breast further into his mouth.

“_Uhn_ –Woah,” she breathed as he kneaded a breast with one hand and brought a nipple to his teeth.

Vegeta moved his body over hers and, as he did, he rolled her knee out of the way to grind his erection into her clothed core. She was tired of not getting her way physically, so she asserted herself by grabbing his face with both hands and pressing a kiss on his lips, which he reciprocated with more fervor than she intended, and she gasped as his tongue made its way past her lips, exploring and fighting her tongue for dominance.

She kissed him deeply, with more passion than any time she kissed him before, if that was even possible. He continued to slowly grind himself into her, revealing his length to her and man, was it impressively large. And thick by the feel of it through her clothes. He was sure not going to disappoint.

He stopped momentarily to remove the remainder of her clothes, and she was every bit as beautiful as when he first saw her nakedness. That situation hadn't been ideal, but, even though he knew what he was getting, it still had him reeling at her body's perfection. Though she was all tight muscle, she was a little thin, so he hoped he wouldn't break her. He made a mental note to be gentle when he finally took her.

He stripped off his last layer of clothing and then they were both exposed to one another for the first time. As she took in his naked form, she had to keep from gasping – she didn’t wasn’t to expand his already inflated ego.

She did cry out when he pressed her down into the mattress and he made eye contact with her as he made his way down her body to her hot core. He breathed over her wet center, giving her heated skin a cooling sensation, goosebumps rising in its wake. He smirked at her as he hooked his arms around her legs to open her up further. Was he really about to? Yes.

Oh yes.

He kissed between her thighs, on either side of her center, before inserting a finger deep inside her flesh. She cried out in pleasure as he pumped his digit in and out at a leisured pace before inserting another.

He kissed her core, spreading her wider before taking his tongue and giving her a stroke over her bud. She lifted her head to see him work her over, before becoming overwhelmed and lying back down, fists clenching the sheets as he swirled and circled her with precision. Her legs were straining against his arms as she was dangerously close to her release. He held her down and she cried his name loudly as she came for him.

She had already been wet and ready for him before he gave her an orgasm. Now she was slick all over with sweat, rubbing herself against him wantonly as he moved upwards and he wiped his mouth, making his way back up to hers.

“You taste sweet. It’s addicting, I might have to go back for more,” he whispered huskily in her ear.

Her eyes widened at that. Before he could try again she confidently grabbed his erection with as much strength as she could manage.

“How about you put this in me and give us both an orgasm, my new, ever-so-generous husband?”

He smiled wickedly at her suggestion, “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” He teased her by testing for himself between her legs.

She was so wet, she had made a small pool under herself. She was more than ready.

“I definitely think so. So, fuck me already. I know it’s what you want.”

He pressed his erection against her thigh, spreading her legs for a second time as he waited at her entrance.

She brought her lips to his again, sucking his bottom lip and moaning his name, amongst other sweet sinful nothings. She felt him test her tightness by slowly and steadily pushing his tip inside of her. She moaned deeply into his mouth and, as he inhaled her sounds of pleasure, he very slowly filled her to the hilt, hissing audibly at the sensation.

When he was completely seated inside of her, he paused. She had gone still, and he recalled when she told him she’d never actually gone this far before. She would be his first as well. Even if she was incredibly wet, she was still tight, and he could feel with his girth that the motion would be too much if he started pounding away too soon. As much as he wanted to begin, he waited with gritted teeth, chin resting on his left shoulder as he bit back a groan.

He looked down to see her face was scrunched as if she was in pain. Bending down on his forearms and pushing her hair gently from her face, he pressed a kiss to her lips to encourage her to relax again.

“Breathe, Bulma,” he told her.

She hesitated, before obeying him and let the air rush into her lungs.

She felt the tension rapidly leave her body – the only place it remained was where they were currently joined between her thighs. She held onto his shoulders and, as she did, he claimed her lips again, opening her mouth widely for him as he pulled himself out slightly and then back in.

She got the idea that she was to focus on his kiss and not the pain, so she unclenched her fingers from her biceps to cradle his face. Vegeta was filling her mouth with his tongue, giving hers long strokes as he thrust into her through both sets of her lips, above and below. He attempted to set a rhythm for her to follow and she allowed it, releasing a breathy moan and rocking into him to signal she was ready for more.

And he gave it to her.

He pistoned his hips against hers as he set a pace that had her blazing with heat and pleasure instantly, her moans and sighs escalating to yells and screams. Neither cared how loud the other was being, since everyone should have still been over in the banquet building. Vegeta wanted to hear her, unabashed and unbridled, writhing and thrashing underneath him, pleading to give her more.

“_More, Vegeta!_ I-I want more,” she demanded, and though typically he would not acquiesce to such a commanding tone, he was more than willing to comply to her wishes in this setting.

He grabbed her wrists and pushed them into the pillow behind her head, sinking deeper and deeper into her core, eliciting several higher-pitched moans from her open mouth. With every stroke, he climbed higher. Finally, he leaned down to silence her with his mouth, driving his tongue back into her mouth, which she willingly accepted, leaving her arms up and keeping her body open to him as she felt him wash over completely with every suck of his lips and touch of his rough hands.

"Do you want more, Bulma?" He asked hoarsely - struggling to speak, but every bit willing to tease his woman.  
  
"You know I do," she replied and she started meeting his thrusts now, testing her ability to match his rhythm.

This caused him to grunt and lean into her now but, never to be outdone, Vegeta gave her a low chuckle. So eager. Just how he wanted her. 

"How... do you want it? You...have to be specific woman." He grunted between thrusts.

"_Hn.._.harder! Ve-Vegeta!" She pushed her hips up into him, taking him deeper, trying to milk him for all his was worth. She wasn't backing down from such a gratifying challenge, something he never failed to deliver on.

He was loving every minute of this.

"I'm game...but can you handle it?" He smiled down on her. 

Under the light of the moon she caught a glimpse of his features and the look he was giving her took her breath away, stilling her heart in her chest. 

She was giving him this satisfaction. It empowered her, and she had only just begun to soak it up and bask in this passionate moment between them.

She loved it.

He pulled back to grab her hips and this new angle had Bulma reaching up behind her and gripping her bedpost as hard as she could while he rode her with near-reckless abandon – and not only that, but he now had a perfect view of her bouncing breasts. He shifted and hiked her left leg up over his shoulder, the new depth of penetration sending Bulma screaming in pleasure. She felt something deep in her tighten, like the coiling of a spring, and something told her this sensation was becoming too much. Vegeta was far from paying attention, as he had thrown his head back, lost to the sensations she was giving him. The sudden crescendo sent Bulma into overdrive and, as he rode her body, the climb sent her right over the edge and into a free fall. 

_“I’m-I-Vegeta!!”_ She screamed at the top of her lungs as she reached her orgasm, chest heaving violently as Vegeta gave out a shuddered breath and followed right behind her into his own release.

He stroked inside her a few more times before going still, lowing her leg back down to the bed and collapsing on top of her body, both of them still catching their breath. 

“Was that to your liking, mate?” He rolled them both over and he was still buried deep inside her, ready for another round whenever she was.

“I think you already know the answer to that. You just want to hear me say it,” she sighed and laid herself comfortably on his chest, still receiving pleasant tingles as his erection kept a steady presence in her body, “I like to know when my work is appreciated, yes.”

Bulma rolled her eyes and smirked at his response. Ever the cocky, proud prince.

“What about you? It was your first time too, right?”

As Bulma sat up and lazily traced the scars across his wide chest, Vegeta felt his cheeks burn at her question, uncomfortable when the ball is in his court, “It was.... very pleasant.”

“Oh yeah? Where did all that bravado go from earlier, Mr. Make-her-scream,” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked up at her with a knowing smile and grabbed for her breasts, giving them a tight squeeze. She moaned at that, squirming in his grip.

“These feel really nice. And hearing you scream my name is one of my new favorite things. Is that more acceptable?”

“Fine, yes,” she said as he massaged her chest now, wanting to ignore everything else but the sensations he was giving her so generously. He stopped abruptly and she pouted, crossing her arms.

“Woman, lay back down and relax. You have too much energy – I thought I fucked it out of you. Then again...I’m more than willing to go again if you are – put that energy to good use,” he pushed up into her and she moaned behind closed lips, humming in pleasure.

“Yes, _please_.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to flip her over and take her again, ready to have her writhing for him for as long as she could stand it. If she was already impressed by his length and stamina, she could now be impressed by his recovery time as he proceeded to take her over and over for the following hours, each time soaring to new and higher heights, deeper depths.

They fell asleep after the seventh round of playing in the throes of their passion, Bulma infinitely impressed with the Saiyan’s stamina. They weren't perfect every time, but it was as if their bodies knew the dance and they only needed the chance to rehearse the steps.

During the sixth time, she had attached her mouth to his neck and bit down with as much force as a human could muster, sending him over the edge of his orgasm swiftly, moaning with pleasure the whole way down. She didn’t know if she left a mark or not, but she figured they would find out in the morning. Leave it to their instincts to bring them both so close, and to so much undiscovered satisfaction. 

Bulma couldn't imagine how it could have been if she would have given it up to Yamcha when they were dating, but she knew for a fact it wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying as this was. Forever bound to her new mate, she would never have to know. If what Vegeta had described to her was true, she would never have to experience the heartache associated with losing him to someone else, for there would never _be_ someone else.

Vegeta was sworn to her and her alone, and only by pain of death could either of them be released from this now. 

* * *

While Bulma slept, she dreamed.

The dream showed her and Vegeta, walking along a shoreline on a far-off beach...a place with crimson sands and gilded, golden waters that lapped at their ankles. As she looked over the horizon, a golden sun shone brightly, reflecting upon the waters and cast millions of tiny diamonds bouncing amongst the waves, putting Earth's ocean and all its splendors to shame.

As she focused on their dream versions, she saw they were conversating, but something was off. Dream Bulma laughed and smiled, and dream Vegeta held her hand and kept talking to her about things real Bulma couldn't quite make out. They were both acting pleasant and relaxed with one another, but that wasn't what stood out to her.

When she placed what it was, she gasped.

Her belly was swollen like she was pregnant and, judging by her size, she looked like she would be giving birth at a moment's notice.

* * *

Bulma woke with a start, heart pounding. She got up from her bed, leaving Vegeta sleeping soundly behind her and she fled.

She couldn't help it, she was overwhelmed. She felt panicked as she took off out the back door, then down to her lab. Her lab is where she felt safe, where she felt things made sense. This new development and what transpired between her and Vegeta just hit her and it hit her hard, all at once.

She would surround herself in her gadgets and circuitry and would wait until dawn. She couldn’t handle it all. She landed in her cot by her workbench and held herself tightly.

She felt the pleasant ache still present between her thighs, evidence that thing indeed happened the way that they did last night. She was now, according to Saiyan standards, married. And boy, was that overwhelming the hell out of her. She didn’t know the first thing about being a wife.

Or a Saiyan’s wife.

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, anything to stop feeling so out of her depth. Bulma felt better as she held herself on her cot, trying to focus on feeling her heartbeat. The steady rhythm was gently starting to pull her back under and, as she began to drift, she thought about space and planets. How beautiful the night sky was. She felt around for her favorite gadget, the one that would release the hatch above her to give her a perfect view of the night sky. She pressed the button and the metal hummed and whirred as the sky was revealed to her.

She sighed as she gazed at the shimmering stars, feeling her senses being soothed by the light.

When she woke hours later, she felt like someone threw a match under her cot and she was set on fire, her skin burning fiercely with no relief in sight.

She instantly sat up and felt her flesh. It was intact, but it still burned like she had been dumped into a heating furnace.

“Ughhh…,” she groaned in agony.

She only felt hotter as the minutes passed, so she began stripping her blanket, then her clothes in an attempt to cool herself down.

She felt for her neck and realized the burning had radiated from the wound down and under her skin. Her brain told her it had something to do with her new alien husband and realizing he might be the cause angered her fiercely.

Was he the reason she was in such terrible pain?

She broke out into a sweat now, her skin well past feverish. Her body was pouring sweat as a way to combat the heat, but it didn’t make the burning stop. It kept intensifying and Bulma was now realizing she was in grave danger. She had no idea what to do or how to stop this pain.

There wasn’t a shower in her lab, or bathtub for that matter. She just kept burning as she thought for a way to stop her affliction.

The Regeneration tank.

Her father finished helping her put that together two days ago, she could jump in and it could heal her.

She tried to get up from the cot but could only fall to the floor. It was cold and soothing to the touch, but it was far from enough for her. She slowly inched her way in the direction of the tank, pulling herself by her elbows to make it to the healing pod. She made it a couple feet before her muscles stopped allowing her to move. She was a meter away, and she reached with all she was for the tank, but the burning was taking her over. She cried out and stretched, but she couldn’t move anymore. Her muscles felt too inflamed, her whole body sang with red-hot torture, and she stopped reaching and was now laying motionless on the floor of her lab, very much awake, but only for so long, as she felt her body shut down.

Her last cries were for Vegeta, but he was nowhere to be found.

This was it for her, and as she accepted her fate, she slowly curled into herself, body going numb as she closed her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes....oh yes. I can't have you all completely satisfied without the threat of death, now can I? It just wouldn't be fair! ;) Cliffhangers suck...I know. But hang in there, I'll pull you up.... next chapter. ;)
> 
> *I'm a musician. So if you wanna get lost in the feels like me, listen to this song by Chase Atlantic called "Swim" but find the slowed version on YouTube. It's 100% perfect. Thank BundyShoes, she found it :D


	15. Saving Grace and an Impressive Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's something small to tide you over until I flesh this out further tonight ;)
> 
> *Edited by the one and only BundyShoes :)*

She heard banging at the lab door, before a loud crash reverberated off the laboratory walls. Then she felt two arms cradling her naked body and it was like someone opened a door to a cabin on fire and stepped out into a cold winter night. She felt instant relief wash over her. Whoever was holding her had just answered her prayers, dowsing her in cool water with their touch.

After a hasty inhale, Bulma found she could breathe again.

“What the hell are you doing down here, Bulma? And why are you naked,” her rescuer asked.

She couldn’t speak… Her body was still recovering from whatever had afflicted her, and she gripped tighter to the man holding her.

“Answer me, woman...Your body - you’re drenched in sweat. What happened to you?”

“Burning, ‘Geta,” was all she could say into his chest, her body shaking as it recovered in his arms.

He looked at her neck. It looked angry and red, and he ran his fingers over it gently. She flinched and he stopped touching it, furrowing his brow with silent inquisition. He began walking with her in his arms, trying to cover her immodesty with her shirt he snagged on the way out into the hallway as he made his way back into their room.

First, he drew her a warm bath, then set her down inside it. Her expression was neutral, eyes closed. He waited for her to come to, lathering her skin with delicate pressure, trying to soothe, not hurt her. Vegeta started thinking. He looked at her neck again in the spot where he bit her and saw that the wound was no longer angry and irritated. It was now slightly pink and raised, almost like a fresh healing scar.

He had never seen a bond be made before; he only knew what to do to make one. So, if this was a side effect of their union, he had no prior knowledge. He knew for now that he needed her to wake up and tell him what happened. 

He stroked her cheek softly. Her eyes slowly fluttered opened at his motion and a silent tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away, staring into her blue eyes intently, waiting patiently for her to tell him what had transpired in her lab.

“The…the pain, Vegeta. I’ve never felt such an intense burning. I was being flayed alive, and nothing I did stopped the pain,” she choked out over a few more tears.

“And how do you feel now?” he asked her quietly.

She looked away from him and did a mental assessment of her body, checking for any painful places still in recovery. She couldn’t feel anything and she sighed as she allowed the water to comfort her.

“Like I’m no longer dying. I panicked. I’m sorry. I’m finding this marriage-bonding-thing to be uncomfortable for me right now, so you have to bear with me,” she said in one breath, feeling strangled by her confession.

He only nodded, as if silently telling her to continue.

“I, I ran into my lab, to comfort myself under my skylight. I fell asleep and when I woke up, it felt like someone set me on fire. I was burning up from the inside, so maybe I got a fever, but that points to infection and, unless you have some alien disease I don’t know about, I can’t verify this has to do with you, but I have a good hunch,” she said, finding her anger once more.

“When did the pain stop, specifically?” he asked her.

She looked into his eyes as he waited for a response. His face was neutral, but his eyes told her everything he was feeling for her in that moment. Never had she witnessed such a depth. It made her feel better - like he genuinely cared - so she continued.

“When you picked me up or, I guess more specifically, when you touched me, it was like water was poured all over me, and it all stopped. Do you have any idea why?”

Vegeta thought for a moment, then began to strip himself of his shorts.

Bulma looked at him, puzzled. “What are you doing?”

He stepped into the tub and moved her to a seated position, before situating himself behind her, laying her back down against his broad chest.

“This probably has to do with the bond we made. So, my theory is that if we keep physical contact, you won’t fry. If you say my touch fixed your affliction, then it looks like we have the solution. And I’m not complaining, it seems like my bride is the one having second thoughts,” he teased her.

She huffed, indignant. “No! That’s not it, I swear! I just needed to comfort myself. That’s all.”

“And I can’t comfort you?” He kissed her neck gently. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the places his lips touched. She shivered. 

“Well, you can, Vegeta... you did! I just, ugh, I don’t know. It got real and I needed to be by myself for a moment, I guess. To contemplate.”

“I assume, for the time being, that isn’t allowed. You can’t leave my side or you’ll you go up in a feverish flame. Hmm, training is going to be interesting,” Vegeta said, thinking about how he could keep an eye on her and focus on training simultaneously.

“I was able to be separated for a couple hours without going up in smoke. So I think as long as we come together after you train and I work in my lab, we’ll be good. Besides, all that contact will get on our nerves. I can see it now,” she chuckled lightly and settled into his embrace as they lounged in her tub.

She tensed again as she thought back to their exchange just now. She didn’t want him thinking she didn’t want him, that was not the problem at all. She just felt the weight that came with being married to him and what that would lead to and, in the moment, it scared her. As she closed her eyes, she felt it was finally time to tell him. It would only be harder for her if he continued to be unaware of how she truly felt for him. This was a big deal, since she didn’t know quite how he was going to take her confession, Saiyan culture considered.

“Vegeta?” she asked him quietly over her shoulder.

“Hm?”  
  
“I-I have something to tell you.”  
  
“Spit it out then, Bulma, spare me the bated breath…silly woman.”

  
“I love you.”

  
She could feel him tense underneath her. She sat up and flipped herself over and straddled him now, putting her hands on his chest. She wanted to gauge his reaction, so she looked him dead in the eye, not once breaking contact, daring him to look away. He furrowed his brow, face neutral and unaffected, but his eyes held all the turmoil he was experiencing at her words. She was the first to lean in and press her lips to his, trying to silence his thoughts and bring his focus back to her once more. It was the first time he had ever heard those words uttered to him before. He had heard them, and he knew what they meant, but never knew how they felt in relation to him. He wasn’t ever a being to be loved, but to be feared.

When she realized this, it caused her to stop and gaze into his eyes once more. One minute she was looking at him, the next moment it was like watching television monitor - images and sounds flickered across for moments before flashing to the next. She only grasped pieces of what was going on, but like he had told her, she would feel him - and what was lurking underneath had her trembling. It was as if his consciousness was reaching out to her through some sort of connection, one that was unimaginable by human standards…and it wasn’t strong yet, but evidently it was growing.

It was hazy, but she felt as if he was mentally asking her_ are you sure? Could you love a man who could carry the memory of all of this? _All the hateful deeds done to him. All the deeds he had to do under control of that tyrant, Frieza. She saw flashes of moments and images he held secretly inside and, from what she could see, the memories were enough to bring tears to her eyes. She hated Frieza. She understood that now more than ever that he was of the darkest filth of hell and needed to stay gone - forever. His crimes were something deserving of eternal damnation in her mind. Frieza took Vegeta as prisoner and tortured him in every way he could think of. It made her furious. Above all, it made her want to hold Vegeta and keep him from that level of torment.

No one deserved that treatment.

“Oh, Vegeta. I’m so sorry.” She pulled his naked body into hers, embracing him as tightly as she could manage. Crying silently on his shoulder, she wept with sympathy for such a broken man.

He sighed. He knew what she saw. He allowed her to be emotional towards him for the moment.

He had already made his peace with that part of his life, but she was seeing it for the first time.

She didn't know the bond could connect them like this so suddenly and so intimately. She hadn't felt him at this degree yet, so he wanted to attempt to show her patience.

“Of course I can love you. I can, and I do. I don’t pity you or anything; I promise. It’s love, Vegeta. I love you.”

She pulled back and could have sworn she saw tears forming in his eyes, but he hastily moved her off of him and rose from the tub, grabbing for two towels in her cabinet in order to dry themselves off.

“Stop, woman. Stop being ridiculous. I’ll be fine. I…I appreciate your sentiment. But I can protect myself. I’m one of the strongest beings in the universe and, so long as I push myself and train, you’ll be perfectly fine and so will I. Now quit your crying and quivering and come out of that tub and dry off. I want to put you back in bed next to me and we aren’t leaving this room until lunch. Got it?”

She nodded quietly and did as she was told, standing close to him again, grabbing her towel and drying her body quickly. She couldn’t help it - she hugged him again, holding him close to her body, not wanting to let go of him.

“Woman. Can’t you let us get to the bed first?” He sighed and picked her up easily, walking out into the space of her bedroom and depositing her on the bed.

“I have to know that you understand.”

He crossed his arms. “Understand what?”

“I wasn’t running away from you. I…I saw something last night in a dream between you and I, and it put things into perspective for me,” as she spoke the words, a shiver went down her spine.

“A dream, huh? What did you see?” He climbed into bed as he waited for her answer, pulling her petite form into his arms.

This didn’t help settle her nerves as she couldn’t look away or avoid his question physically, she was looking up into his eyes with her own. It was intimidating to have his face that close to hers, looking down at her expectantly - especially with what she wanted to tell him. His gaze was making her head spin.

“I uh, um…you, you’re too close now. I can’t think straight.”

Vegeta groaned, momentarily annoyed. “Tch. First you wouldn’t let go of me, now I’m too close. God forbid there was a problem with flaying alive for not sharing physical contact - o_h wait_.”

She huffed and hit his chest powerlessly, but he took the hint and backed her up, keeping his hand on her hip for necessity.

“Just let me have space to think, then you can cuddle my brains out, okay? Jeeze.” she groaned, voice thick with sarcasm.

She cleared her throat and began again.

“We were walking, and you remember what you described your planet to be like? What I imitated in the GR?”

He nodded as a gesture to continue.

“Yes, well…we were walking on red sands and the water was close enough to touch our feet, and we were talking - apparently about nothing in particular because I couldn’t hear what we were saying - but we were content and I looked at myself and…and I…”

“And you what?” Vegeta demanded, wanting to rip the band-aid off that was this conversation so he could get her to go back to sleep and rest.

“I…I was pregnant.”

He looked at her for a beat before he started laughing. Her face was surprised at his sudden reaction, then quickly dropped with a scowl when she registered he was actually laughing _at her_.

“Oh, I see. That’s what you’re afraid of. That’s why you ran off?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, the edge in her voice tinged with anger.

He managed to stop laughing, breaking into soft chuckles as he answered her.

“Bulma, you’re afraid of bearing children. And for your sake, I was never worried about you being afraid of me, silly woman.”

“I-I am not, afraid of that. And good. But don’t laugh at me! That dream…it meant something…”

“Yes, that you’ll have a child - In the probable near future. News flash, mate…you aren’t the first woman to have one.”

“Yes, thank you for that obvious tidbit of wisdom, you big, insensitive oaf.”

He grinned and pulled her into his arms again at last, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Bulma, you’ll be fine. I’m here and I physically can’t leave you, even if I wanted to. When I do get you pregnant, it will be the right time for all that comes with it. It’s all according to plan. I chose you as my mate, did I not?”

“Well yes, but-“

“Then you will also be who I’m looking towards to raise good children, and I have faith in you, Bulma. So quit worrying over natural processes and sleep, for Kami’s sake.”

She groaned, but was secretly satisfied at his response, since she no longer had to worry about how he felt.

That out of the way, they had quieted down and she finally started to drift back to sleep, grinning into Vegeta’s chest as she heard his breath even out, signaling he was asleep.

When she woke up hours later, her clock told her it was 12:29pm, still roughly enough time for an afternoon meal. She was starving and ready to eat, considering all the excitement she had endured last night.

She realized hers and Vegeta’s limbs were still tangled under the blanket. Glancing over, she saw his face was smoothed with unconsciousness

She smiled and reached for his hair at the nape of his neck, giving him a couple light scratches with her nails. She noticed that his hair was thick, but soft as she played in his shorter spikes. She heard him grunt in approval of this and realized this was a new favorite moment: Vegeta’s limbs intertwined with hers, face not scowling or frowning, and giving him gentle scratches.

She already found him to be handsome, but relaxed and peaceful had never looked better on anyone like it did on him.

After watching him sleep for a moment or two, she leaned in and gave him a small peck on his lips.

Her hunger was winning out at that moment though, so she started to get up, but was stopped before she made it off the bed when he grabbed her wrist

“Get Panchy to make me 8 hamburgers and set aside any side dishes from lunch to choose from.”

She kissed his cheek.

“Say the magic word and I will,” she told him, kissing him a couple more times.

He growled something at her and none of it sounded like ‘please’.

“I’m sorry, honey. Come again? I didn’t catch that.”

He rolled over and stared at her, a frown on his lips.

“…. Please.”

“Good job! You’ve come so far. Proud of you,” she giggled and winked and, as he rolled back over huffing and cursing, she walked out of the bedroom and downstairs to eat whatever was making those delicious smells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute, huh? Don't get too comfortable... ;)


	16. I Just Want To Keep You Safe!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of angsty, but definitely fluffy.
> 
> Another polished edit by BundyShoes!

Bulma sat in the kitchen for lunch with her parents, eating a turkey sandwich. Both she and her father were relaxing and enjoying light conversation while Panchy cleaned some grease off a countertop.

“Hopefully Vegeta comes down soon. I don’t want his burgers gettin’ cold!” she said cheerily.

“Don’t worry, mom. As soon as he smells them, he’ll haul butt.”

Bulma had moved on to eating her granola bar when Vegeta strolled into the room and took a seat next to his wife. Bulma smiled and bit another chunk from her snack. Chaps and Panchy both assessed the couple, noticing their proximity and the state of calm that miraculously associated it.

No one said anything for a length of time. Panchy, wide-eyed and silent, brought over Vegeta's burgers, while Chaps cleared his throat as he reassembled his newspaper. Of course, both parents knew what had transpired between them; Chaps just couldn’t help himself at this point and broke the hush that seemed to fall over the space.

“Glad to see you two finally managed to scratch that itch you both had.”

Bulma’s smile dropped instantly.

“Ugh! Dad! Seriously?? Could you be any more overt?”

Vegeta turned to Bulma, wondering what itch her father was referring to.

“Bulma, translate…What does that phrase mean?”

Bulma blushed and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“_They know about what we did last night_.”

Realization hit his face and red faintly colored his cheeks, but he acted unaffected, picking up his third burger. He wanted to say something, but knew Bulma was the best candidate for interaction with her parents and so he chose to stay silent.

“Well, as long as you two are happy, I support your decision to be with whomever you want, honey - especially someone as handsome and sweet as Vegeta,” Panchy said beaming at her daughter.

If there was anyone on Bulma’s side on the debate of whether to marry Vegeta or not, it was certainly her mother. Her mother loved him, facts or past aside.

Bulma sighed and looked to her husband. There was some unfinished business they needed to attend to down in the lab and the moment she remembered, she became excited to tell him what she could do.

“Alright, Vegeta, take your burgers with you, I have something for you down in my lab that you’ll be pretty interested in.”

“What? Ugh. It’d better be good.”

He picked up his plate and drink when she stood up and gestured for him to come with her.

“You’ll see, I tested it on Goku first while you were gone,” she winked.

“You-you what!? That idiot got advancements before _me_? Explain!”

Bulma giggled over her shoulder as she led him out of the room, burgers in tow.

“Oh don’t be so touchy. You’ll be glad I tested it on someone first.”

When they left, Panchy sat down with her husband, a giddy smile on her face.

“What are you so happy about, dear?”

She grabbed his arm and squeezed it with excitement.

“I’m finally gonna get some grandchildren!”

He shook his head and smiled at his wife.

“We’ll see.”

* * *

Bulma had Vegeta sitting on her operating table with his plate seated next to him, fifth burger currently being casually consumed while she readied her equipment.

“So, I have something new to give you.”

“You’ve already given me so much with nothing in return,” he told her, trying to think of what else she could possibly have come up with.

“Yeah, well get used to that - science is continually in the business of producing progress. I’m going to give you a new tail,” she told him as she turned to face him, holding a ready syringe in her hand and smiling.

He stared at her, frozen in shock.

“What-how?”

“Well, it worked so well on Goku, and his body so far hasn’t rejected the appendage. That’s why he was my Guinea pig. Can’t have you guys walking around with rotting flesh attached to your backs now can we? The experiment was a success, so now it’s your turn.”

Vegeta continued to look into her face, feeling awe for the human’s intellect all over again.

“I really did luck out with you as my mate, didn’t I?”

“You sure did. Now turn around. You’re not a wimp around needles like Goku is, so I was able to easily stick the DNA synthesis into this syringe, and all I have to do is inject it into the scar tissue where your tail was prior to its severing.”

She lifted his shirt, found his scarring and inserted the needle, slowly injecting him with the synthetic material. He didn’t so much as wince as she finished administering the compound for his new tail.

“Within minutes, you’ll start to see results, so just relax.”

She crossed her arms as they both waited, resting her hip on the edge of the table and observing her husband.

“Where did you get my DNA?” he asked her after some time went by.

She took his hand, which he allowed, and began running her fingers lightly over his rough palm, noticing the scars on the back of his hand.

“It was easy. You leave your DNA on a lot of easy surfaces.”

“No I don’t. Are you suggesting I am unkempt?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

She chuckled softly.

“No, but it was still easy to take your bloody clothes and your toothbrush to gather a sample…”

“Oh really? You clever little thief,” he feigned dismay as he held her chin within his fingers, pulling her in for a kiss.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She put her arms around his neck and gave him a deeper kiss before he winced in pain.

“Hey. That stuff is starting to smart, Bulma.”

She stroked his cheek as her eyes roamed his features, which were furrowed and creased.

“Well yeah, honey, your body is repairing tissue and growing a new body part. It’s not going to tickle.”

“Did…did Kakarot experience pain?”

“I’m sure he would have, if I didn’t put him to sleep.”

Vegeta gave her a smug grin.

“What a coward. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“It’s not the pain, it’s the needle,” she smirked back.

She got up to give his back a once-over and saw the beginnings of his new tail taking form, all naked and pink with fresh flesh.

“Ew, just like Goku’s tail…I can’t watch it grow. But the final form will look good as new, I promise.”

He grabbed another burger from his plate, and she grabbed one too. When he scowled at her, she told him it was her reward and ate with him in comfortable silence.

When the tail was finally formed, it started to grow little tufts of fur and, before their eyes, he had a fresh new tail, complete with thick brown fur.

“Woah, Bulma…this is…unbelievable. Thank you,” was all Vegeta could think to say as he twitched his tail side to side, then up and down.

He tested its strength by grabbing her around the waist gently, using it to pull her into his embrace. She beamed at his show of gratitude.

“You’re welcome. It’s a bit jarring - having a husband with a tail, I mean. But I could get used to this side of you, that’s for sure.”

“And what can I give you in return?” He questioned her, still holding her in his arms.

She feigned contemplation, tapping her finger on her lip.

“Hmm…I could think of something…something we did last night, for instance,” she smirked.

“Say no more, you can have plenty of that tonight - if you can be patient.”

“Maybe…if you let me go to Chi-Chi’s today to ask about our lovely new Saiyan curse.”

He tightened his grip around her waist.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.”

She sighed.

“Come on, Vegeta. Please? I’ll only be gone for like, two hours tops. You’ll be so busy training, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Yes, I will…I will know. I can feel you.”

She glanced up at his eyes and in them she saw pain. She held his cheek and, to her surprise, he placed his hand over her own. He looked down into her lap, avoiding her curious gaze.

“When you went down here to your lab last night, I didn’t feel you leave, or the absence of your presence. I only managed to feel you when you began to burn. You felt pain and I was alerted to come find you through our bond. That’s when I woke up. I sensed for your Ki and I saved you.”

Bulma stroked his cheek, wanting to show him soft affection for his plight.

“Oh, I’m…I’m so sorry, why didn’t you tell me before?”

She saw his eyes shift under his lashes, showing the subtle search for his explanation. 

“I thought it was just dumb luck. Not until after I reassessed my reaction, did I figure it had to do with the bond and its emergence. Please, Bulma. I don’t want to go through that again. It was…unnerving.”

“Aww…I love you too. My Saiyan prince, getting all protective over little ole’ me.”

“Sh-shut up. That’s not why I-“

“Okay, so what am I supposed to do all day then? Sit in here and do nothing?” She asked petulantly.

“I’m sure you will think of something, woman.”

“Like what, I’m supposed to just call Chi-Chi instead?” she groused. “I turn into a human furnace and then all of a sudden I’m on house arrest?”

“Not funny, Bulma,” he growled.

“Not laughing, Vegeta! I just don’t like feeling cooped up!”

“Ack! I don’t care about your boredom! I’m taking this seriously and so should you! If you go down, so do I!” He exclaimed, adamant on expressing the severity of their situation.

“Ugh! I’m not trying to be selfish! I just wanna have the freedom to move about the city. Is that too much to ask for?” she asked, exasperated.

He made eye contact with her and pulled her in closer; demeanor shifting to cold and rigid.

“When you are tethered to me, it is. I’m not losing you to some stupid curse, and I’m not dying because you perished on your way from that idiot Kakarot’s place!” he said this in a forced tone, attempting to convey his passion to her, but trying not to outright yell in her face.

She put her hands on his chest, glaring fiercely at him for insinuating her carelessness.

“I’ll call her if it will calm you down. I get it. You care about our wellbeing…and, as much as it pains me to admit it right now, you are right,” she sighed.

When Vegeta felt satisfied she wasn’t going to go kamikaze on him, he loosened his grip, releasing the tension in his body in an effort to settle himself down.  
  
“I’m going to try to focus on training. Call your friend if you think she might have information on our predicament,” he told her.

Bulma took a breath and let it out.

“Fine. I’ll see what she says and tell you at dinner tonight.”

He gripped her shoulders, and after a few moments, he finally looked away from her and headed towards her lab door.

“I will see you soon.”

Bulma nodded.

She was still angry that he wouldn’t let her go, but after some time, she realized he only wanted her to be safe and protected.

The truth was they didn’t know what was happening to her.

He didn’t want to risk her safety by her being too far away from him…since it appeared that only his touch could save her if she was gone for too long.

She let out another sigh and leaned up against the metal frame of her lab table, pulling out her phone to dial Chi-Chi’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go! Bout to see what Chi-Chi might know! Did she experience the same thing with Goku, and figured out how to get around it...or something else entirely? Find out next chapter...


	17. Kidnapping Fools and a Loud-Mouthed Harpy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it’s pretty surreal. We all are writing our own stories while real life is illustrating it’s own story, and this part is getting pretty ugly for us out there past our quarantines.  
The C-virus is in full effect and it’s restricting a lot of our movement, and that’s crazy to me. So you think “Well that means Elbordony will have plenty of time to write while the virus sweeps across the States!” Maybe...but not so fast dear readers. I will be sure to write, but it doesn’t guarantee I will be posting more, just writing and developing more. I’ve been developing the next part of the story and getting things fleshed out, because I don’t want to spam you all with chapters that are shit lol I’m trying to keep consistent tone and plot points relevant without plot holes-that kind of stuff. So quality can be assured 😊 **It was my birthday yesterday so I'm posting today**
> 
> *Officially edited by BundyShoes!* :)
> 
> Now let's see how this phone convo will go with Chi-Chi. Everybody gets to learn something new!

“Hey, Chi! What’s new?” Bulma asked when Chi-Chi answered her phone.

“_Not much, B…same old, same old. Except now that Goku has that tail you gave him, he’s been picking things up with it non-stop - including me! He’s been driving me nuts and having too much fun, if you ask me. He and Gohan are outside training now, giving me a moment’s peace,_” Bulma heard her sigh through the phone.

Bulma quieted her giggling on her friend’s behalf.

“Huh. Well at least it’s working and his body didn’t reject the tail. I promise you that would be worse. Um, so, any who…I have some news to tell you.”

“_Okay, shoot._”

“Are you sitting down?” Bulma asked, knowing how trigger-happy Chi-Chi’s emotions were.

“_Uh, I can…why what’s_-“ Bulma heard her gasp audibly on the line, “_Are you pregnant?!_”

“What? No-Chi just sit down and let me tell you what I have to say!” Bulma huffed impatiently.

“_Okay, Okay. Jeeze._”

Bulma took a breath and slowly let it out.

“Okay so… I, uh, got married!! Well, sort of,” Bulma told her awkwardly.

“_WHAT? YOU’RE MARRIED NOW? When did that happen?? Wait, why sort of?_”

“Well…according to Saiyan culture, I’m married. But by human culture - not quite there yet.”

“_Saiyan, huh? And which Saiyan could possibly that be?_” Chi-Chi asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

Bulma knew how she felt about Vegeta. But she was gonna have to get over it.

“Well uh…you’ll never believe this but he’s a prince! And has this gravity-defying hair, and is really dedicated-“

“_Just stop it Bulma-I know who it is! You-you’re married to Vegeta? This is crazy! I can't even fathom- How? When? Wh-_“

“Chi! Chill out. That’s not all the news! I have more,” she told her with growing anxiety.

“_What could possibly top what you’ve already told me?_” Chi-Chi asked with bewilderment.

“Well, I wish I could talk to you in person about this, but Vegeta won’t let me go alone and-“

“_Oh that is rich. Wow, so protective…almost like he never threatened each of our lives six months ago….hmm_…”

“I get it, Chi. When we can chat in person, I’ll explain things better. So, to get back to the point -when you married Goku…did you experience any…burning? Particularly in the neck region?”

“_Um, no, can’t say that I did._”

Bulma shifted to sit on top of the operating table.

“So did he ever bite you?”

“_What kind of question is that, Bulma? No. Goku never bit me,_" Chi-Chi said, sounding affronted. 

“Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense.”

“_What makes sense?_”

“Why you haven’t died from Goku being gone all the time. You guys aren’t ‘Saiyan’ married.”

Bulma sensed a pause as Chi-Chi processed the information.

“_Bulma…are you in trouble? Are you saying Vegeta bit you and triggered this…curse thing?_" Chi-Chi asked, genuinely concerned for her best friend.

Bulma sighed.

“He didn’t know it was going to hurt me. In Saiyan culture, a Saiyan will bite their chosen mate and their mate bites them in return. I’m human, and I guess to go against their tradition and mate with an outsider is so taboo, there’s a curse attached to my end if he isn’t in physical contact with me for a certain length of time.”

“_Oh…huh. That’s too bad. Sounds like you literally got the short end of the stick. And not to sound like, racist or anything, but you do know that sounds pretty barbaric right?_”

“Well, maybe…”

But Bulma felt something deeper than just perceived misfortune and barbarism. Bulma felt she finally understood the weight and the meaning of their relationship. Vegeta was so sure of himself that he staked his own life on things working out. Hell or high water, they were in this together. This curse was a setback, but nothing they couldn’t handle. She felt determination returning to her now and it made it harder to stay on the phone. 

“Bulma, dear…are you still there?”

“Y-Yeah…hey, listen, I gotta go…more stuff to work on. Talk to ya soon, okay?”

“Okay, yeah, you better keep me posted, Bulma Briefs-“

Bulma didn’t hear her friend’s final sentence as she hung up and set to work on new plans. Plans to help make her stronger.

She worked through dinner, which she didn’t realize until Vegeta sat her meal down on the workstation in front of her, the tap of the porcelain plate touching wood pulling her head up from her notations.

"Thanks," Bulma said, reaching for the plate.

“What information did you manage to glean from Goku’s harpy?” Vegeta smirked, earning him a glare from Bulma.

She picked up her fork and began pecking at some beans.

“You mean Chi-Chi? She doesn’t know - she was never bitten.”

“Kakarot never bit his mate? What kind of Saiyan…well, that actually makes sense. Didn’t you mention he hit his head as an infant?”

Bulma nodded, popping food into her mouth.

“So I wouldn’t consider him to be someone who utilizes his ancestral instincts…other than his insatiable need to fight,” he continued as he took to casually pacing the floor.

Bulma shrugged.

“What I understand is that if I was Saiyan, I wouldn’t be burning. There really isn’t that much to this whole ordeal.”

“Yes, but it presents a danger to us if we’re separated. If you die…I’m next in line,” Vegeta said with a grimace.

Bulma got up and stood before him, grabbing him to still his movements. She aligned them by squaring her shoulders evenly with his.

“I’m not going to die.”

“But Bulma…your species is so fragile. You became a liability to me as soon as we formed our bond. I’m going to need to hone my focus if I am to take on those blasted androids. ”

Bulma felt that statement like it was a slap across the face. A liability. That’s what he’s reducing her to?

“That’s what I am? A liability?”

He grabbed her before she could take off. He held her close to his body while still maintaining eye contact.

“Think logically. Your physiology makes it hard to fight with or for you… if I must leave, you will be forced to come with me, and so on and so forth! You must understand what is at stake - I can’t afford to lose you!”

He brought their foreheads together with the ending of his statement. He wanted her to feel his anguish, to understand that this was more than just _his _life that he was tasked with caring for. He wanted to show her how he felt about her, in which Bulma learned ran deeper than words could manage to express.

With their eyes closed, she allowed herself to transfer her emotions over to him as well, so that he could see and understand that this was hard for her, too.

With their bond, her pain and fear would become known. This she could no longer hide behind her angry outbursts. But in turn he was be able to give her strength and courage. They were united in every sense of the word now, and it was a powerful tool; it gave him the ability to lift her spirit and, despite their hardship, make her feel undeniably connected. She would never be alone and neither would he.

He sent these thoughts to her and she held him tighter in response, trying not to emotionally come apart.

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, and as she turned to hide her face, he gently stopped her, stroking his thumb under her eye, stifling its flow.

“I do understand what you are feeling, Bulma. I just want us to be smart about this.”

“Right. Okay, Vegeta,” she sniffled.

He tilted her chin up to give her a peck on the lips before releasing her altogether.

“Quit your tears. There’s no need to cry. Did she say anything else of importance?” he asked her, adjusting his attire and crossing his arms.

Just like that he was back to his default setting - scowling and distant.

She almost laughed at his sudden shift. _Old habits die hard_, she mused.

“Other than how barbaric your race sounds - no, not really,” she stated, already feeling much better. She checked her nails with faux interest, ready for his response.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and frowned.

“What part of being from a ‘warrior race’ eluded you? Honestly, you humans are so delicate, what’s next…are you going to tell me a human wedding requires frilly flowers and jewels?” he scoffed, crossing his arms.

Bulma put her hand over her mouth to keep from breaking out in giggles.

“Wow, you uh…well, you know what, honey - I’m going to leave that up to you to figure out.”

Vegeta grunted and rolled his shoulders, finding them to be a little stiff.

“Whatever. Let’s go upstairs. I had a tense training session and I need those magic fingers of yours to work out some…knots,” he smirked.

She smiled at what he was hinting at. She stepped closer to him, “Of course - sex is definitely a given - you promised,” she purred, running her hand from his chest down to rest on his manhood.

He frowned and reddened at her blatant lewdness as he pulled away from her and marched himself back out of the lab. He was trying not to think too hard about the night’s future events as he went, lest he show way too much enthusiasm in front of her parents - as they were sure to be seen as the couple made their way to Bulma’s room - and never have a normal, non-annoying meal in front of the pair ever again.

She followed him, keeping her distance for the sake of appearances as they made their way around the living room to avoid her mom and dad, who were currently focused on the television.

They had almost made their way up the stairs when Panchy caught sight of them.

“Goodnight, dears! Sweet dreams!” Panchy said over the back of the couch she was sitting on next to Chaps, who was still too focused on the show they were watching to turn around.

“Night, mom. _Dad_,” addressing her father with a slightly different tone.

“Goodnight, Bulma - try not to be so loud this time, I’m trying to watch my show,” he called to her over his shoulder.

Bulma hiked it up the stairs at double the speed, blushing furiously the whole way to her bedroom.

Vegeta was already stripping himself down when Bulma made it inside and shut the door behind her.

“I’m sound-proofing this room,” she told him decisively, taking her own clothes off to join him in bed.

“Good.”

Vegeta pulled her under him and she grabbed his face, pulling him down to crash her lips against his at last. He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue in past her lips, her response being to suck on it hard, causing him to moan into her mouth. He tested how ready she was between her legs and she didn’t disappoint, her slick thighs more than indicated her arousal for him.

But she had other plans.

"Didn't you say you had some knots? Want me to try to work them out?" Bulma asked innocently.

"W-what?" Vegeta asked, momentarily disarmed as she motioned for him to move. He hesitated before allowing her to maneuver herself to sit on top of his back.

She began pressing underneath his shoulder blades and down his spine, and it was then that Vegeta added another favorite to his list.

He was practically purring as she worked her fingers across his broad back, trying to not put a lot of pressure into the more heavily scarred areas in his skin, ones which piqued Bulma's interest in their origination.

"Where did this one come from?" She traced her finger on a rather long scar across his upper torso.

"Frieza issued a public execution for Raditz, which turned out to be a test of allegiance for me and the remaining Saiyans - a gauge of how willing I was as a leader to put my life on the line. I was whipped heavily in his place and was told I only bent my knee to serve Lord Frieza, not for the betterment of our brethren or even on behalf of the whole. Frieza laughed as I was punished for my fealty. It was a psyop… psychological operation...trickery. That was one of Frieza's favorite ways to infiltrate...the mind."

Bulma felt him shudder underneath her - and not due to pleasure from her hands.

She was sure that over the course of their marriage and through their bond he was bound to experience more of this caliber of recollection.

She would have to be strong to not break under the awareness of that knowledge.

"I'm sorry," she offered. In her mind it was a band-aid for a bullet wound. But what else could she offer to unwitnessed atrocities?

She felt him sigh.

"Why? I never understand why you humans say this - you didn't cause my pain, so don't apologize," he chastised.

She rolled her eyes.

"We say it to show we are sorry you had to deal with something - not because we caused it, but to show empathy," she explained.

He remained silent and, as she took her fingers and lightly raked her nails along his spine to scratch his scalp, she felt him relax again. 

"You liked that?" She asked.

Vegeta hummed his approval as she repeated the cycle of spine-to-scalp scratches. 

After she attacked his knots and loosened him up, he grew tired of this interaction and wanted to sate a deeper yearning. He showed this by flipping them over suddenly, Bulma back underneath him again and he began attacking her mouth with fervent kissing.

"Thank you," he told her between kisses, and she moaned in affirmation.

When he plunged into her at last, she screamed his name, followed by the immediate clamping of his hand over her mouth.

“The room isn’t sound-proof yet, woman!” He hissed.

He heard her apologize behind his fingers and, in no time at all, he set a pace that had her toes curling.

She couldn’t vocalize her appreciation now, since he kept his hand firm over her lips, but she was telling him with her eyes just what he was doing to her body.

Their eye contact charged the moment with an intimate energy; her eyes gazing up at him as Vegeta's were almost gentle but focused on his task as he sent them higher over that blessed, blissful edge.

He felt close to his release now and he removed his hand from her mouth to replace it with his lips, Bulma moaning into his mouth. Something they both forgot about made its presence known from around Vegeta’s waist as he relaxed the coiling of his tail and began rubbing the end of it into her clit.

This immediately alarmed Bulma, her eyes blowing wide, but Vegeta kept going despite her gasps of surprise, which quickly turned into moans as he worked her over.

**_I missed my tail_**, he told her through their bond.

She only nodded, taken aback and thoroughly impressed with his speed and _precision_.

She met her release first and Vegeta was sure of that before plummeting with his own right behind her, spending himself deep inside her.

He rolled off her sometime after their passionate frisk so that she could get up and clean herself, as it was uncomfortable (and gross) to stay wet like that for too long. She returned from her bathroom and settled herself back down on their bed, where she was immediately met with two strong arms, pulling her into his embrace.

She settled into him as he spooned her from behind and she smiled at the gesture.

“Jeeze, protective, much?”

**_Very_**, he replied languidly.

She liked how his voice felt through their connection. It contrasted his gruff physical exterior, giving her warming sensations from her head and nestling in her chest.

It surprised her that he was comfortably communicating this way but considering everything that had been transpiring between them and….hello…_alien_ husband - anything was fair game now in her book.

She felt so warm in his embrace…and his whole body was one big heater so she _definitely_ wouldn’t freeze. It was the right amount of heat, and she could feel him gently nudging her through their bond.

“Yes, I’m ready for bed now. Goodnight…I love you.”

**_I…Vios ranmalrey_**.

Bulma blinked with surprise. She understood a good portion of his language by now, though she hadn’t heard it in a while, but she had a pretty good idea on what that meant. She grinned so wide her cheeks were hurting. He finally said it!

She decided he never needed to say it out loud if she could hear him through their bond. She felt his breathing even out behind her and nuzzled herself against him, finding herself comfortably nodding off.

* * *

When she woke up, she found herself moving.

She lifted her drowsy eyelids and found that her body was in a vehicle.

She felt her heart drop as she inwardly panicked.

_Where the hell am I…_

She turned her head and in the driver’s seat, determinedly focused on the road and not at his kidnapped companion, was none other than Yamcha.

“Yamcha?! What the fuck, you weirdo!”

“Bulma, you gotta chill out, okay? I’m helping you.”

“Helping me - what’s wrong with me?! Yamcha, where am I - where’s Vegeta?!”

“Chi-Chi called me yesterday about your predicament and I took matters into my own hands. I remembered Vegeta would go work out in the morning…I grabbed you after I knew he’d be gone and no one was awake. I hope you were okay with me dressing you… I have you now - you’re safe. I’m taking you to Chi-Chi’s!”

“Okay - no. Turn around and bring me back to my husband please.”

Yamcha froze.

“What?? Husband…you’re married to...to _him_? Chi-Chi didn't mention that...when did that happen?” Yamcha asked nervously.

"Chi-Chi didn't mention it - or did you not give her a chance to tell you?” Bulma said with scrutiny. 

Yamcha was visibly shaken now, realizing the monumental mistake he made. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach as he realized what he’d done.

“When did it happen?? How…you didn’t even tell anyone!” He exclaimed.

Bulma gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Consider it Saiyan eloping. You better bring me back to my place or you’re sealing your fate right now. You know Vegeta is going to be royally pissed off when he breaks for lunch. And that’s in like…an hour. If he doesn’t already know I’m gone, that is.”

Yamcha was freaking out at this point, anxiously gripping the steering wheel of his shiny red convertible, afraid of what the Saiyan might do to it - or _him_ once Vegeta found out about what he had done.

He thought he had this all planned out after Chi-Chi called to relay the news to him.

He may have hung up before she could give him full details, but he couldn’t stand the fact that Bulma was possibly being held hostage or something by that evil Saiyan prince!

Although he still felt like he needed to act and save Bulma - this _definitely_ complicated the plan.

“See, you kidnapped me - and you don’t even know the whole picture! I’m in danger _\- right now_ \- the further you take me away from him. I’m going to burn up if I’m gone from him for too long. There’s this curse involved…and you didn’t even realize…you’re such an idiot.” She finished, palms pressed to her face and swearing crossly under her breath.

“Then talk to me, B! I want to know you really are safe! The others are asking about you, too. They want to know,” he said, trying to find his cool.

_Tien. Piccolo. Dende. Of course they want to know. Yamcha was just the front runner. He was the closest one to me…Right. This **was** a rescue mission, _thought Bulma with some deliberation.

The Z-Fighters might be focused on preparing, but they always have their ears to the ground in case there are any other kinds of threats around the Earth. Including if they heard a certain alien prince had caused any sort of trouble around Capsule Corp.

She shot her pointer finger up at a diner that came into view on the corner of the street ahead of them.

“Stop there and we’ll talk. Then you will take me back home,” she demanded. After a pause, Yamcha nodded and pulled his car off the road and over to the restaurant.

Yamcha got out and, for the first time, Bulma realized her ankles were tied together.

She tumbled out gracelessly into the parking lot.

“Y-YAMCHA, WHAT THE HELL?!”

He quickly ran over to her and helped untie her.

“I’m sorry, it was just a precaution! I didn’t know if I’d get you to come willingly - it made it easier to put you in the car!

“Yeah, well, I literally just busted my ass after _willingly _agreeing to eat lunch with you! Gosh, you’re dumb. This whole thing is so stupid,” she spat angrily.

Yamcha helped her up and they walked into the diner.

They sat down and Yamcha looked at the menu while ignoring the death glare he was receiving from Bulma.

She picked up her menu after realizing how hungry she was.

“I’m still hating you. But a girl’s gotta eat, and you kidnapped me without my wallet so _you_ get to pay for my sandwich,” Bulma huffed.

Yamcha rolled his eyes and continued to search for what he wanted. The waitress walked over and served them their waters. They ordered their food and, with no more distractions, Yamcha started thinking of questions to ask her.

“So…what happened?”

“Vegeta asked me to marry him and long story short, I said yes,” she stated bluntly.

“Where did he even get the idea to marry you from?”

Bulma shrugged, toying with her straw wrapper.

“I don’t know, he wanted to? I was the only human he wanted to tolerate basically.”

“Gee, that’s really romantic," he said sarcastically.

She squinted at him. “It’s better than being one of many… you liked to play on and _off_ the field.”

Yamcha diverted his attention to look out the window. 

“Look. I’m not here to fight with you, Bulma. I get it…I was an idiot and I messed up my chance. But this whole plan was to make sure you were okay. Chi-Chi told me to check on you and that you could potentially be in trouble. Not married,” he confessed.

“Vegeta knew what he wanted. Just like he always does. He wants to train and ascend? He does it. He wants to marry me? He does it. I like that about him. He’s focused and determined…it was refreshing, and I fell for him. When he bit me and triggered the curse, it wasn’t intentional. He acted on instinct and now, not only are we linked through our bond, I can’t leave him for more than a couple hours or my body breaks into a feverish heat and I burn until I die.”

“Yeah, you sure sound safe to me,” Yamcha deadpanned.

“Yes. I am safer with him than anyone else on the planet,” Bulma countered. 

They stared each other down for a moment before what sounded like an explosion detonated outside.

Patrons in and around the restaurant looked and what they saw made them all scream and begin to panic, some jumping from booths and running for the back door, others taking off through the front and fleeing for their lives.

Bulma didn’t even need to look.

“Kami, look what you’ve done! Get down!” Bulma dove across the table to shield Yamcha on the floor as another blast shot in the parking lot, causing debris to fly into the diner, shattering glass and breaking the door.

Golden hair and livid electric eyes would be terrifying to encounter for an innocent human bystander, but Bulma wanted this certain harbinger of destruction more than anything right now.

Vegeta proceeded inside the diner with all his badass super Saiyan glory, scaring off every last soul on the premises.

He scanned the room until he locked his eyes on Yamcha, who took to cowering under the table.

“YOU.”

Vegeta instantly lunged for the man and pulled him one-handedly out from his hiding place, suspending him in the air like a stray animal.

“_Shit!_” Yamcha hissed as he was propelled outside and into the parking lot.

Vegeta smoothly glided to where Yamcha landed.

The destruction in his wake was a perfect contrast of his outer disposition.

“Wait - _WAIT!_” Bulma yelled, heading outside through what little remained of the restaurant’s threshold.

The diner was situated on a busy street and onlookers already had their full attention from a safe distance away.

Vegeta was about to do something terrible and she didn’t need anyone to witness this.

“Stop! I’m fine, please! Vegeta!”

She broke out into a full sprint, then came to a skidding halt as she audaciously covered her former lover's body.

“He took me, it’s true! But look - don’t take it out on him - he didn’t know better!” she pleaded, chest heaving as she sheltered her idiot friend.

Vegeta's glow was still bright, anger flashing in his vibrant eyes, ready to deliver justice and infuriated with his wife's impediment. 

“Get off him, Bulma! He put you in danger and I’m returning the favor! He deserves to die for stealing you away from me and I’m in _NO_ mood to negotiate!!” he yelled, clenching his fists and shaking with rage.

She stayed in place, still shielding Yamcha with her body. Even though she could feel the warning signs of the curse, threatening to burn her alive, she could sacrifice a couple moments to make sure Yamcha would be spared.

“I protect my friends, Vegeta! He messed up - but he thought he was helping me...he made a misguided attempt!”

“THAT SCUM HAD NO BUSINESS TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!”

“But I’ve forgiven him! I don’t expect you to do the same. He’s my friend - and Goku’s - so you can’t kill him!” she pleaded, full of righteous indignation.

“You’ve done it again,” he growled, tightening his fists, “you are protecting him from my wrath - _AGAIN_.“

“I didn’t say you couldn’t kick his ass! I just said you can’t_ kill_ him. Negotiate _that_.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened.

“Oh really?” Vegeta walked over and knelt next to Yamcha’s head. Bulma was still wary of her husband’s movements but knew he wouldn’t try anything that would risk her safety.

“Well, it appears as though my wife has given her verdict on what she thinks you deserve and I have… acquiesced. As soon as she moves, your ass is mine.” Vegeta sneered.

He ascended and glided backwards, enough to give Bulma room to move.

Bulma looked at Vegeta and saw the rage simmering underneath that neutral look he was giving them now.

She knew that as soon as she was safely out of harm’s way, he was going to hurt Yamcha -_severely_.

_But how severely?_ She wondered.

She turned to Yamcha.

“I saved your life - twice now. I care about you, but you have to look out for yourself. Vegeta will protect me. He would never hurt me. Please, let him watch over me now, okay?” she implored earnestly.

She didn’t wait for his response.

She got up slowly and stood before Vegeta.

He reached his hand out to her, but she didn’t accept it…not yet.

Her body was starting to rapidly feel the effects of the curse, but she had to know he wouldn’t go back on his words before she relieved her affliction with his touch.

Bulma knew that Vegeta could sense what she felt. She sensed his anger skyrocket.

The parking lot began to crumble and pieces of asphalt lifted into the air as Vegeta's anger dangerously began spilling over.

When he sensed another wave of Bulma's pain, he suddenly went livid, sending flashes of ultramarine energy into the sky.

While he compromised his composure, Bulma finally sensed his true intent.

She kept her posture as ridged as she could, protecting Yamcha like he was the last lit beacon weathering against the battering tides of a raging, vengeful sea.

Vegeta was lying – he was going to kill Yamcha.

“The curse, I can sense it taking you over! GET OVER HERE BULMA AND TAKE MY HAND - NOW!” Vegeta commanded.

“I HAVE TO KNOW!” She expressed ardently.

“KNOW WHAT - _I ALREADY TOLD YOU I WON’T KILL HIM _!!” he yelled, all patience lost at this point. 

“I want your word that you are telling the truth,” she told him solemnly, “I know what you want to do, I can feel it... you are so angry…angry enough to kill someone - to _murder _Yamcha in cold blood! You can’t hide these things from me anymore! I want your word…on your honor as a prince and warrior.”

_She - she can feel that deeply now, to know I was lying_? Vegeta thought, black asphalt stilling in the air around them.

** _I can hear you, and respond to you now, too._ **

The surprise on Vegeta’s face was very satisfying to Bulma as she smirked at him through her pain.

** _You can say it to me, Vegeta. Just me. Please. _ **

Yamcha was still on the ground, eyes shifting to Bulma, then to Vegeta as he witnessed their seemingly epic stare-down.

Bulma shrieked as she struggled to stand, prompting Vegeta to reach for her once more.

“Bulma! Just get over here and let me help you! Stop wasting your resolve on this low-life scum!!” Vegeta called out, his desperation becoming evident.

She took a shuttered breath and steadied herself above Yamcha.

“I have to help save you from yourself. I have to _make_ you not do this.”

Her breaths were growing labored as she felt the pull of gravity dragging her knees down to the pavement, the blazing heat coursing through her veins.

Her visible struggle was causing the war in Vegeta to manifest itself in his features; wanting to maim the bastard Yamcha for taking his wife from him and wanting to do what Bulma was asking him to do. Why was she doing this? She was jeopardizing his life - and her own - for some idiot and it had him at literal wit's end!

“What are you prattling on about?! Are you saying you would miss him if I wasted him where he lay!?” he bellowed.

“Not the point. I…I want to be proud of you too, Vegeta... to show my pride for who you are becoming. Keep being better than…than who you were when you first came here. Do you understand? The man you are becoming is far more important than who you were, don’t use that same energy to eliminate your option of mercy!_ Please_…for me.”

Vegeta kept his glare on Bulma, before closing his eyes with upmost frustration, his face set in a deep scowl.

** _You have my word, as a Saiyan prince…and warrior. But make no mistake - he isn’t going unscathed, you stubborn fool._ **

With that, Vegeta raised an open palm and ascended into the air. Yamcha slowly stood to his feet, then rose to meet Vegeta in the sky.

He was going to try to go out with some sort of fight to save face.

But Vegeta was having none of that.

As bright blue Ki ignited in Vegeta's hand and grew into a large mass, Yamcha inhaled a quick breath.

“Vegeta, she told you not to kill me! What are you doing?!” Yamcha hollered.

Vegeta chuckled deep in the back of his throat and gave a sinister smile.

“She never said I couldn’t hurt you. Goodbye, _Yamcha_.”

Vegeta shot his arm out and with palm facing his target, fired directly at Yamcha, sending him flying across the sky and out of sight.

Vegeta lowered himself back onto the street and looked over to his wife.

“There. Now will you please - _GET OVER HERE_?!” He barked at Bulma

She flicked her long hair over her shoulder and planted her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you tell me what to - _ahhh _!” She screamed as she fell to the ground. The burning had reached her muscles and she finally lost the ability to stand.

“How embarrassing, all that bravado…you were saying, mate?” Vegeta snarked as he rushed to pull off his gloves and put his hands on her bare skin.

He placed his hands everywhere he could reach, trying to bring a swift end to her torment.

“Go to hell!…_aaah_…” Bulma felt relief at last. He finally allowed himself to get a good look at her face and noticed that under her left nostril was a small trail of bright red blood.

“Why is this here?” He asked, and she pulled her sleeve over her hand to wipe away whatever it was.

“I don’t know...our fun, new mind connection trick?”

He growled in response, just wanting all the problems of this afternoon to stop, not have more pile on.

Physical strain on her body like that didn’t bode well with him in the slightest.

He picked her up and held her tightly in his arms as he took to the air, setting his sights on their home.

“’Geta?” Bulma managed to say in her current state of consciousness.

“What?”

“Thank you for listening to me.”

“I was going to pay for it later if I didn’t.”

Her smile was accompanied with the closing of her tired eyes.

“Yes you were.”

As he felt her drift off to sleep, Vegeta thought about her tenacity.

Where Bulma lacked physical strength, her will power alone would withstand any attack a threat could possibly pose. At least in the battle of wills, he could rest assured knowing she would always reign supreme.

She would stake her life on it, even if it enraged him in the process.

He breathed in deeply and let it out, slow and controlled.

The drama was over for now and he could finally have a moment's peace before he returned to his evening Katas. 

He would deal with Bulma's condition after dinner when she was well-rested and safe from harm. 

"You aren't allowed out of my sight," he said, intending it for Bulma but mostly to himself when he landed on Capsule Corp's west lawn.

She rested peacefully in his arms as he made his way towards the GR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I edited this because I really wanted it to sound good. I hope it sounds better now. Thanks to those of you who read the first posting and liked it anyway!


	18. Oh, Baby!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you all should know what will happen in this chapter... 
> 
> **Btw, aren’t you all terribly lucky…two new chapters released so close together! Hopefully this pace can tide you all over for the duration of the outbreak right? ;)
> 
> I figured I wouldn't take a whole chapter to do this, but I wanted to give a shoutout to RoyalBlueRoses for giving me some well-needed feedback a few chapters ago. 
> 
> And, if you've been wanting something to add to your reading experience...or just want good music selections for other fics, I have compiled a playlist of my go-to songs while writing this story:  
*Interspace-Starcadian  
*Running Up That Hill-Meg Myers  
*Swim-Chase Atlantic  
*Test the Waters-Autograf, WYNNE  
*Modern Animal-Magic City Hippies  
*Too Proud (Kito Remix)-Broods  
*NASA-Ariana Grande  
*365-Zedd/Katy Perry  
*Flames- R3HAB, ZAYN  
*Look What You're Doing To Me-BANKS  
*Lights Low-RKCB  
*Don't Let Me Go-Raign  
(And some other soundtrack selections from Lord of the Rings (Evenstar) and The Witcher (The Great Cleansing) to name a few!)  
**If you want more than even that list, I GOTCHU. Just PM me or comment lol
> 
> I don't know about you guys, but I gotta write and read to the good shit. 
> 
> ***And guys, please don't be afraid to leave a comment to tell me if you like something/don't like something. If it needs changing...I WILL GO BACK AND FIX IT. lol***
> 
> ANYWAYS, back to the fic. Enjoy...this chapter was weird for me to write but I had some fun with it for sure.
> 
> **Edited by the lovely BundyShoes :)**

Over the next couple of weeks, Bulma kept herself busy with her newest project: an enhancement shot that would boost her body’s production of creatine, beta-alanine, and carnitine and a mixture of other synthetic blends her father invented to help her build strength as she worked out in her home gym.

As soon as she understood what it would take to hold her own in a fight with Goku and Chi-Chi, Bulma wanted to keep a regimen to ensure she could at least stand a chance against a normal human. She wouldn’t have to worry about going up against a Saiyan, so there was no need to train like one, but some enhancements for some skin in the fighting game wouldn’t hurt either.

Her only problem with this, after the incident, was that now she would have to do this with Vegeta - and that was intimidating as _hell._ The prince wouldn’t let her out of his sight, as promised, and with that came little to no privacy. The only privacy he would allow now was the bathroom, and even that didn’t matter because they were married. She wanted to train alone, but when he heard she was training with none other than his long-time adversary, he couldn’t let it go. He fumed so hard that day, she worried about Saiyan blood pressure. From there on out, when she wanted to train, it was only with him - and he scrutinized _everything_.

“Stabilize that core, woman. Don’t leave yourself open! Your form is weak, just like Kakarot’s head!”

“Alright _\- ALRIGHT_. Knock it off, time-out. That last one was unnecessary and you know it, mister!” Bulma declared, full of irritation.

“Preposterous. It’s an accurate assessment, you’re just sensitive to criticism,” he taunted.

“No - you just can’t stand that I didn’t come to you for training!! News flash - you were gone on some stupid sight-seeing fieldtrip in the mountains. So cool it, you nerd!” Bulma huffed, not taking any of his shit.

“I was busy thinking of how I was going to withstand being married to a headache like you! You are more work than a typical Saiyan woman, much less a Saiyan elite! Now, go again - and this time, show me you know how to block!”

Bulma wished she has the physical strength to take on an actual Saiyan right now to shut his big, fat mouth.

“It’s not my fault your people’s stupid, xenophobic curse took over my delicate, human body!!” She defended, readying her stance exactly how _he_ taught her.

“Tch. Delicate my ass! Have you paid attention to your eating habits lately? You aren’t as strong as the weakest Saiyan, but you sure do eat like one!” he snarked.

That did it. A line had just been crossed.

In her mind, he just implied the “f” word. Bulma had never wanted to kick his ass harder in her whole life.

“Are you trying to call me _FAT_…?”

The air around them changed considerably as Bulma dropped her fighting stance and stalked towards the mouthy Saiyan prince.

He was beginning to look considerably out of his depth, as “fat” wasn’t even an insult he would associate her with.

“W-what? No, I said-“

“_Oohh ho-ho_. I know what you said. I’m eating like a fat slob, _right_? Like - some pig - _RIGHT_? Oh, I wish my punches could do some damage to that smug face of yours…If _I_ were a Saiyan, you’d be in some serious fucking trouble right now….NO ONE calls me FAT.”

“I-I didn’t! Bulma, just stop it already, listen to me - I said you’ve just been eating more lately-“ He cut off his defense when she reached for her pocket, watching her curiously.

She took her keychain out from her pocket and pressed the small button that gave an example of 1000x gravity in the GR.

The gravity-enhanced gloves on Vegeta’s hands responded, instantly falling to the floor - with Vegeta attached.

He hit the ground with such a force that he winced painfully. The weight was so extreme he couldn’t even lift a finger to pull them off.

“Y-you could do that…this whole time!?” he grunted angrily.

“Yup” she said, releasing the ‘p’ with a pop and swinging her keyset around on her finger.

“You let me up this instant, woman!!” he yelled, trying to gain leverage by pushing up off the floor with his legs.

“Hmm…maybe.”

“NO ‘MAYBE’ - LET ME UP NOW!!” he roared, air sparking with Ki.

“Alright Vegeta, stop struggling or you’ll break them. I’ll let you up - if you take it back.”

“’_Take it back’_ \- BULMA, I DIDN’T CALL YOU FAT, YOU IDIOT!” His anger spiked again as he went back to prying his arms up from the floor of the GR.

She didn’t give him a chance to break out as she pressed the little button a second time. The force sent him flying, hitting the ceiling of the room with a loud thud. He hurtled back to the ground and landed on his stomach. He sat up, groaning from the fall.

“I’ll be in the kitchen - eating a _salad_, you JERK.” She walked to the heavy metal door of the chamber and slammed it shut.

Oh, how the female species still managed to bewilder the Saiyan prince.

_Or maybe it was just his female_, he thought as he picked himself up and stomped out of the GR, storming angrily over to the main building.  
  


* * *

“Honey, maybe Vegeta is right. You have been eating more lately,” Panchy stated politely, as eating and weight was a sensitive subject with her daughter.

Bulma currently had a salad...and three chicken salad sandwiches on her plate as she munched on a chocolate muffin.

“This is just a snack, mom. I’m fine - I haven’t gained a single inch!” she cried, looking at the food in front of her.

She was far from wanting to admit it, but maybe they were right. She usually had one sandwich or one salad…not all this.

“Hmph. It’s probably my supplement shots I’m giving myself. I’m probably needing more calories to keep up with my workout regimen!” she mused cheerily, knowing this meant she was probably going to gain some muscle now.

“I don’t know, dear. Isn’t it just exercise that triggers that?” Chaps chimed in from his place at the table.

“Well, if it’s not my shots, what can it possibly be?” Bulma asked with annoyance.

Both of her parents shot glances to one another before Vegeta charged into the kitchen.

“Bulma, if you do that again – absolutely no more training for you. I won’t stand for cheap tricks like that.” His tone suggested he was not in the mood for banter.

She smacked her lips, “Fine. Whatever. My parents and I are trying to figure out why my appetite has increased and it can’t be my supplements apparently and I don’t think my exercise has anything to do with it…unless I’m being more active somehow.” She put her fist on her chin and thought.

Everyone in the room except Bulma looked at each other now.

Vegeta surprisingly mouthed “pregnant?” to Chaps, who shrugged and mouthed a “maybe” in response.

Vegeta pursed his lips as Bulma hit her fist on her open palm, implying she had an answer.

“I got it! My body is just trying to make up for all the times I wasn’t eating, and it’s trying to balance out my appetite by having me eat more than usual! Does that even make sense?”

The room was still silent. Panchy broke out into a big smile but had enough sense to keep her mouth from blurting out what she wanted to say.

Vegeta cleared his throat to interrupt the quiet.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Panchy, prepare my lunch….please,” he muttered at the end, but Panchy caught what he said and was overjoyed with his manner improvements.

“Of course, Vegeta honey! I’ll whip up your favorites,” she winked as he turned to walk out of the room.

Chaps sat his paper down and carefully assessed his daughter, adjusting his glasses.

“Bulma…maybe you should check your hormone levels - particularly your hCG levels.”

She gasped and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Are you trying to tell me to take a pregnancy test, dad?”

The doctor looked to his wife, who was grinning profusely and barely able to contain her excitement.

“Oh, honey! I hope it’s a boy! That will be so much fun!” Panchy squealed, clapping her hands happily.

Bulma visibly deflated.

“No. No, you guys can’t seriously think-“

“Bulma, it doesn’t take genius intellect to put two and two together. When is your official wedding date? You should do it soon, wouldn’t want the media hounding you with rumors. It could cause problems for your reputation in the company. You two need to hold an official ceremony to announce your declaration. Capsule Corporation is too renowned for its heiress have a baby out of alleged wedlock, dear. It would be considered a scandal,” he told her gently.

“But dad. It wouldn’t be out of wedlock. Me and Vegeta are already married, don’t worry. We married about two months ago, actually.” Bulma was too enwrapped by the conversation to realize the truth her father and mother had already discovered.

“I know,” he said gruffly, picking up his water and taking a swig.

“You - you know already!? How?” Bulma asked, genuinely intrigued. She was shocked that they knew all this time and hadn’t said anything!

“Vegeta mentioned it to us briefly. We figured you’d tell us eventually.”

“Wow, okay…wasn’t expecting that - and I meant to tell you guys, I just figured I’d wait until we had an actual human wedding.”

“Right. Human wedding…if you don’t mind me asking, what is the difference?” Chaps inquired.

She hesitated, before reaching for her collar around her neck and pulling it down, revealing the healing scar she now sported, showing the mark that bonded her to Vegeta. It was smaller now, but still quite visible.

“This,” she said, showing her parents her husband’s mark.

Panchy gasped, and Chaps’ eyebrows shot straight up.

“It looks brutal, but it didn’t really hurt. I usually keep it covered, but it’s supposed to be displayed. It shows, at least in Saiyan culture, that I’m…married.”

“Well, I guess I can’t argue with an alien culture…but by Jove, I wish it didn’t involve leaving a permanent mark on you like that, Bulma,” her father said.

Bulma shrugged, releasing her collar. She chose to avoid telling them about the curse the union brought. She figured this was enough in and of itself.

“Okay, honey. If that is what you want, I can’t argue with you - and especially not with him. We welcomed him into our home we can welcome him into the family, too.”

Bulma looked at her father and broke into a teary smile, standing to reach up and wrap him in a hug. Panchy skipped over and embraced them both happily.

They all settled back down and chatted cheerfully while they ate. Panchy continued to cook Vegeta’s lunch, who finally came back down the stairs after he sensed the conversation was over, smelling fresh from a nice, hot shower and ready for a good meal.

"Thank you...," Vegeta muttered under his breath and Panchy grinned widely.

As they ate, they felt a comfortable silence take over and were able to enjoy a peaceful lunch.

When lunch was finished, Bulma was the first to leave the room, heading to take a seat on the couch in the living room.

She pulled out her phone and anxiously made a call to Downtown Capsule Corp, making a request for a certain...specific type of kit.

* * *

Hours later, Bulma stood in her bathroom, holding the pregnancy kit she ordered.

Tonight was the night. The truth finally revealed, where she would learn if she was going to be a mother nine months from now or not.

Setting the kit on the counter, she walked back into her room. She decided she would wait until after Vegeta had gone to sleep to take it.

There he was - laying on their bed, waiting for her to return.

“What was in the box?” he asked her casually.

“Don’t worry about it - just a new…supplement.”

He shifted into a seated position, crossing his arms.

“Oh, really? Bulma, you are probably the worst liar I have ever met,” he stated with a sigh.

She shrugged sheepishly, walking over to him as he reached his hand out for her to take. She slid her hand into his and let out a moan as the relief crawled its way up her arm and the burning at her neck ceased.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

He pulled her into his arms and when she was comfortably tucked into his body, he reached up to turn out the light.

**_It’s a pregnancy test_**, she disclosed to him through their bond.

**_I figured_**, he answered.

** _It’s just a precaution, just to rule it out._ **

She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with the possibility.

**_Whatever helps you sleep better, mate. Goodnight, _**he replied.

Little did she know, he kept his thoughts about this from their bond - she was being ridiculous. This was a natural part of their progression together.

_Silly woman_.

They both drifted off, only for Bulma to wake hours later, stricken with anxiety.

* * *

_Pregnant?_ she gasped, holding her mouth with her hand, trying not to wake her husband_. _

_No. I can’t. This can’t be._

Her hand settled on the counter of her bathroom, still gripping the pregnancy test she had just taken.

It now indicated two solid pink lines. She was still slightly reeling from this revelation as she looked at her abdomen in her mirror. There was a half-human, half-alien hybrid growing in there now - and she didn't even know the first thing about what to do with a baby, let alone a _hybrid_ one.

She stifled a sob with her palm. She let her body slip to the floor, letting the test fall to the ground with a small plastic clatter across the tile.

She didn’t want this yet. It was too soon.

She ran through her options, assessing and weighing pros and cons. If she went to Chi-Chi, at least she’s had experience and would tell her what she should do. So long as she didn’t bring up the father immediately - since Chi still felt tension towards him - Chi-Chi could comfort her and understand what she was feeling.

She made her mind up to leave right then, forgetting that it was almost 5 in the morning -which was about the time Vegeta would be leaving to train.

Bulma figured that by the time she got to Chi, it would be around 7, so that was more acceptable. No time to spare, she quickly and very quietly collected herself as she prepared to run to her good friend.

She glanced at Vegeta with a worried expression, not wanting to outright abandon her husband, but too freaked out to change her mind now.

She carefully turned the knob and shut the door behind herself.

“Bulma…?” Vegeta got up several minutes after Bulma had made her hasty exit, feeling the sheets in front of him and finding no signs of his wife.

He found her test wrapper on the counter in the bathroom, curiously examining its contents. He read the small instruction leaflet for further intel, before looking to the floor, finding the test face down on the tile. He picked it up and inspected the lines.

There were two solid pink lines, telling him one thing: Bulma was now pregnant with their child.

Slightly panicked, he walked out of their room and down the hall, looking through the compound and searching for any indication that she was present.

“Bulma!” he called out, not caring about what time it was.

His calls did in fact manage to wake the parents of his wife, who he then broke the news to and told them that he couldn’t find her.

“Oh, my dear boy. She probably freaked out and ran to a friend’s house. My first guess would be to her friend Chi-Chi’s house, since she’s had a baby fairly recently. She always goes there, or the Kame house if she has a problem we can’t solve. Bring her home safely, son.”

Vegeta exhaled and cursed under his breath. There was no way his wife would go to the Kame house with that perv Roshi lurking about, so that effectively left Kakarot’s house to search.

_Oh joy, this was going to be pleasant_.

“I’ll be back soon," was all he told his in-laws before he took off flying in the direction of his rival, hoping he could catch her before she got there.

* * *

Bulma was cautiously steering her hover car above the city, over trees and powerlines, as she made her her way to Chi-Chi’s place. She needed to clear her mind and have a good talk about what she should do before Vegeta finds out about the baby.

She sighed.

_Oh Vegeta, what am I going to do? I don’t feel ready for this responsibility yet. In a year or two, sure. But 2 months after we got married?_

Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and a moment later the need to vomit made a strong presence in her gut and up her esophagus. She held it back as she quickly made to touch down in a grassy field.

She hopped out and proceeded to throw everything she had eaten the night before up and onto the grass.

It was a violent release that caused her to double over after, away from her mess, as she laid herself down with care onto the ground. After that exertion, she felt like she could nap a moment before continuing her journey and she felt her eyes begin to flutter close

The next time she opened her eyes, she saw a figure standing before her and, as she panicked, they came down upon her and scooped her up.

“Well, you tried, I’ll give you that, mate. Why is your first instinct always to run?”

She was still feeling disoriented in his arms as Vegeta carefully cradled her.

She tested the need to vomit again by putting her hand over her abdomen.

When her head caught up with the rest of her body, she looked up at him. A glare was fixed on his face.

She frowned.

“Feel sick, ‘Geta.”

“I’ll bet you do. That’s what you get for running away from me, silly woman. Did you think I’d be upset?”

She thought for a moment. “Yes...Maybe?”

He sighed.

“Let’s get you home and tucked back into bed. I have to train.”

She struggled to get out of his arms and back down on the grass. She got him to lose his grip on her when she pushed against his chest and she tumbled down and immediately got on all fours to vomit once more.

She finally reached a stopping point and gagged, before spitting and wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Her eyes were streaming with tears and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him in her current state.

“I have to see her," she declared.

He shook his head.

“No, your parents had you, they can help you for the time being with pregnancy information. You’re coming back with me so I can put you to bed and have you safe and rested…and by the looks of it, a constant path to a toilet. Let’s go.”

He reached for her wrist, but she held firm against him.

“No - can’t.”

“Stubborn woman, you _will_ come with me right now, back in this hovering contraption, and I will fly us home!”

“No!” Bulma said, now crying steady tears.

“Stop your foolishness! You’re better than this. Pull yourself together, let’s go.”

She hiccupped.

She was still dazed after all the excitement she was experiencing, both mentally and physically, but she understood he was only going to be so patient with her .

“Better…than this? Hm. Kay,” she decided and allowed her husband to put her in her hover car.

“Damn stubborn woman.”

She giggled as she fell back asleep in the passenger chair of her hovercraft. 

That night, after being awoken by a series of troublesome nightmares rife with screaming victims and dying comrades, Vegeta was now wide awake. He was watching Bulma as she slept and, as he observed the serenity on her beautiful face, he reached his hand down to idly stroke his fingers across her lower abdomen while his heart rate returned to a steady pace. His movements and the calming of his mind allowed for him to guide his thoughts towards productive contemplation.

He reflected on all that had occurred over the last couple months and he found it hard to fathom that they had come to this very predicament. It was sobering to say the least, and he was in no way prepared for what would come as he and Bulma navigated these uncertain times together.

He wasn’t sure what new threats would be posed, and he would be naïve to assume those threats would be as easy to thwart as that spineless weakling, Yamcha. He wanted peace, but feared that together, him and Bulma attracted discourse like flies around rotting flesh. Dangers were unavoidable and he would be ready to protect her with every fiber of his being, but even though he wished that would be enough, he was afraid for her.

She was so delicate. If he squeezed her too hard or pushed her harshly, she would bend and break and that would be the end of her fragile, human life and, in consequence, his child’s life as well.

He wanted to break or fight something to relieve his frustration on the matter, but chose instead to channel the time he was still conscious into building harder training regimens in his head, thinking of ways to make him stronger and more resilient in order to combat what was very sure to lie ahead of them in the distant future.

When he was satisfied with his new mental training plan, his eyes drifted lower to focus on Bulma’s second, rapidly growing Ki source nestled deeply somewhere inside of her_. It was strong, even for something so miniscule,_ he realized as he concentrated on the energy there. 

He was reluctant to linger too long on his newest mental investment for fear he would think too fondly on it and it would cease to exist, revealing itself to be merely a figment of his imagination. But despite his apprehension, he thought about this development in order to bring himself some sort of comfort:

It seemed that the universe, due in part to some sort of miraculous cosmic calamity, has officially decided he deserved some good in his life amidst the turmoil and uncertainty - one thing had been made certain: he was going to be a father.

He was going to be able to aid in the creation of the next generation of the Saiyan race, and he and Kakarot did not in fact have to be the last of their kind, forced into accepting the fate of their once strong and prideful people. His wife was the first assurance that he would never be alone, and his heir would be the proof of that assurance. This gave him a tremendous sense of serendipity - that after committing acts worthy of consequence and contrition, he was still granted mercy and a generous gift - a gift he could never work hard enough to deserve in any amount of time he was allotted to live.

He thought he originally earned some sort of compensation for all the atrocities committed against him, but he considered this to be the ultimate form of repayment, one he would never fully merit. He decided to commit himself to the protection of his new family, choosing to lay his life down for their betterment, and if he was going to die as a result of coming conflict, let this be the lasting legacy he left and let it be known that he never took this new trajectory for his life for granted.

In the middle of his rumination, Bulma had woken up, realizing where his hand was currently placed.

She searched his gaze with her own and after a moment she gave him a soft smile that reached her ocean-colored eyes, causing his breath to catch and his eyes to relocate their attention down between them; unable to hold eye contact without the reddening of his face.

** _You don’t need to hide from me._ **

She reached over and held his chin gently in her hand. With some reluctance, he returned her gaze and, when she leaned in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to revel in the rush it gave him, permitting the enjoyment in this tender gesture of affection.

He tested his tiredness and, finding the ability to lay his head back down without the intrusive thoughts of his night terrors to transfix him, he was lulled by Bulma; she began running her hand up and down his arm for added comfort, then pulled him in to hold him as he drifted back off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and reworked the end of this chapter, so check it out.


	19. The Beast on the Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter is gonna be WILD. It is my most creative chapter yet. So hang on tight.
> 
> **I just wanna throw this out there and say I'm so sorry yall had to read the trash I had before BundyShoes edited this story. I should have been more careful, But that's why she's here :)  
I'm slowing down after this chapter so she can catch up, since she's only edited up to chapter like...15.
> 
> So bare with me.
> 
> I thought I was good but I went back and reworked a shit ton of mistakes and I was like...damn self how did you miss that xD
> 
> ANYWAYS. This chapter was a fuh-cking trip to write. So have fun, be safe, and remember: I don't own this shit, so no one needs to sue.  
:D

While Bulma had been honeymooning, actions had been taken behind the scenes - and not all happenings were good in nature...

  
A week before, General Quill had paid a visit to Capsule Corporation while Bulma was out. He was ready to get his drones, but also prepared to nab a “souvenir” before he was sent on his merry way. He would find a way to get his revenge on the Briefs and the alien freak they were hiding.   
  
Dr. Briefs was preparing his latest lecture on Nano-microbiology at the West City Institute at the time Quill had stopped by. Neck-deep in important research, Chaps pointed out were the drones were, listed the instructions on how to operate them on Bulma’s behalf, and allowed the general to see himself out.

“Just see to it that your daughter knows I stopped by to respectfully pick them up. I don’t want her to be under the impression I harassed you or robbed you of your sensibilities in any way, right?” Quill said, glancing casually around the space for anything he could grab that wasn’t in direct eyesight.

“Yes, yes of course,” Chaps said, brushing him off as he continued his research, tapping away on his keyboard.

“Then I must be off. I’m an important man, and delivering these drones are considered top initiative in the race to gain the upper hand over the Argosians,” Quill stated, spotting a box on a counter next to the door.

“Blah blah blah, military importance - I can comprehend it. I have my own pressing matters. We will talk soon, I’m sure. Now goodbye, General Quill.”  
  
“Thank you, Dr. Briefs… for your contribution.”

What poor, busy Dr. Briefs hadn’t realized was the pilfering that had occurred on General Quill’s way out of the lab.

He managed to snag several test tubes situated in a box on the lab counter, labeled “TO BE DISPOSED”.

The general smirked and shut the large door behind him, making his way back to his car. He set out to visit the military lab as his first destination.

  
As he left Capsule Corp, he wouldn’t realize until much later that he made out with the find of his career, let alone his life.

  
Dr. Donavi was there to greet him when he entered the lab.

“So, you managed to get them to hand over the drones?"

Quill grinned.

“I got them alright. I also convinced them to part with other assets to sweeten the deal…”

She gave him a suspicious glance but shrugged it off and held her hand out for what he had obtained.

“How long will it take for you to identify what’s in these samples?”

The scientist held up a tube, then another.

“If you give me about a week or so, I can examine them and decide if they’re any use to us.”

“Fair enough. I have to stop by the weapons lab and drop the drones off so my boss will get off my ass. Give me the head’s up and I’ll be back over as soon as I can to see what you found.”

Isola waved him goodbye as she pulled on her glasses and got to work.

She held up the first tube and found that it was labeled “V” in bright red sharpie.

“Let’s see what we have here.”

* * *

**-A week later and in present time-**

As requested, Isola gave him the head’s up to return to the lab for her analysis.

“The other samples were useless…just some test samples. But this first one…this one is the one that interested me the most.” 

She held up the tube with the sharpie markings to show the General. He stroked his chin as she detailed her findings.

“I had to go to the old databases for this one. It has traces of the primate genome, along with something even more startling, since the only thing “normal” about the sample was that the main genomes couldn’t be identified. It suggests the sample might be from your alien invader, maybe? There were faint traces - and I mean faint - of ancient human proteins. It’s reminiscent our long-distant cousins, the Denisovans, closely related to the Neandertals, separated by thousands of years of evolution. Amazing discovery, I must say. As for what to do with this…well I’m not really sure what your plans are.”

Quill stepped over to her and took the sample in his hand. He studied it for a moment before answering her.

“You were working on a human enhancement project several months ago. Just curious - what were the results at the end of the testing trials?”

Isola frowned.

“In short - death. Each of our animal subjects mutated horrifically and almost all their bodies couldn’t stabilize after injection. It was horrible. It was considered a failed experiment and never made it to human trial testing.”

“Almost all?” Quill asked.

Isola focused on looking at her microscope, uncomfortable with giving him eye contact. She wasn’t liking were this conversation was headed. She knew what he wanted.

“Yes. The single rat we were able to recover stabilized with another rat’s cerebrospinal fluid, collected through a quick spinal tap procedure in an attempt to salvage our work. It was cruel enough to subject living creatures to this, and given the chance to do it again, I wouldn’t...I couldn’t,” she finished bitterly.

Quill stood in front of her, crossing his arms.

“What if you had a willing patient, and you paired it with the other, stronger DNA?”

The head scientist’s eyes went wide. 

“Too radical. I abandoned that research along with the experiments. It’s too risky. If that’s where you are heading, and you want me to willfully subject you to that…no. I won’t do it. It’s suicide.”

“Could you reverse it? Say if things got out of hand - could you reverse unfavorable results?” he asked, almost too casually. The unsettling tone sent a chill down Dr. Donavi’s spine, as she had left this research for good reason.

It would take years to get the science right. They simply didn’t have the financial backing for the lab’s needs to successfully create enhanced soldiers, and with war drums sounding on the horizon, the military couldn’t afford to lose living assets.

“I asked my boss, the General of the Army, if I could proceed in aiding our efforts to fight the Argosians and eliminate threats to U.S. territory. This is where I was led to find that aid. Now are you on board to support your commanding officers and protect your country…or not, Dr. Donavi?”

She stood frozen with indecision. His commanding persuasion had her at a crossroad. Did she restart the experimental project, and endanger the general’s life? Or did she outright refuse, and shame her ranking officer, failing yet again to succeed in her effort to provide advancements for her country?

“Tick-tock, doctor. Make your choice. I can always make it for you,” he said, pulling out his laser pistol from his side holster.

Her apprehension intensified. She backed up several steps, before stopping as he raised the weapon level with her forehead.

The other scientists in the lab couldn’t see what was going on since her blinds were currently drawn. She regretted not talking to him out in the open and in their line of sight.

  
What choice did she have?

* * *

Over at Goku’s place, a tournament was underway, pitting the Z fighters against each other to see who would get their wishes granted with the newly recovered Dragon Balls.

Tien, Piccolo, Krillin, and Yamcha were prepping for the fun challenge in the grassy area next to the chosen tournament grounds, flexing and stretching to prime themselves to compete. The parameters were etched out by Krillin, giving them enough space to fight, but still challenging them to stay in the dirt and away from the grassy edge.

“Alright guys - get ready. I’m not goin’ easy on ya, so come at me with everything you’ve got!” Goku exclaimed.

“I’d expect nothing less from ya, Goku!” Yamcha crowed enthusiastically.

“We’re going to save the best for last, Kakarot - you and myself. I don’t care about wishes.” Vegeta cut in smugly as he went to take his place next to Bulma.

“Yeah, sounds good to me, Vegeta. We’ll see who’s left standing,” Goku replied, ready to fight Krillin.

“Remember, the second your body touches grass, you are disqualified and forfeit your chance for a wish,” Krillin declared as his friends all nodded and took seats on the sidelines.

Krillin squared himself off against Goku as his first opponent. 

“Sheesh, this isn’t even fair - why do I have to go first…?” Krillin muttered.

“Sorry, Krillin, what did you say?” asked Goku.

“N-nothing! Just that we’re having cake after this and I wanna get my slice first…,” Krillin said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I might have to fight you over that too!” Goku chuckled and quickly schooled his features again to prepare for Krillin’s first attack.

As they fought, the group sat and watched - some awaiting their turn and some choosing to strike up conversation.

“You sure you wanna forfeit your wish, Vegeta? I mean I’ll take it if you think you’re too good for it,” Piccolo offered casually, smirking at the Saiyan.

“Piss off, you mouthy Namekian. I only agreed to fight in this charade because I want to test my form against Kakarot’s.” Vegeta tucked his arms into their typical crossing, glaring as he kept his attention on his rival, who currently had Krillin in a headlock.

Piccolo kept his smirk and sat back in his chair.

“So anyways… how is everyone’s training going?” Bulma interjected, trying to steer the conversation in a more constructive direction.

“Good,” Tien answered, “Chiaotzu and I headed up to the mountains to test our endurance, then came back to Kami’s for some good old-fashioned sparring.”

“I tried meeting you all up there, but I got a little caught up in baseball practice…next season is gonna be brutal,” Yamcha stated, rocking in his chair on its back legs.

“Yeah, that’s all it was,” Bulma retorted with an eyebrow raised, fanning her hand out to check over her new manicure.

Yamcha threw his attention over to the back of Bulma’s head, face scowling in annoyance.

“As far as I know, Bulma - you’re still the same. Throwing caution to the wind, reckless abandon with no sense of self-preservation. I mean, look who you’re sitting next to…” 

“Whoa-whoa, back the fuck up -“ Bulma said, rising from her chair and whipping around to face her ex, who gave her a look of disdain. 

Yamcha was a row behind her, the makeshift set up of chairs causing them to have to yell across various fighters as they all tried to concentrate on the _actual _fight.

“Oh, boy,” Tien said, scooting his chair over closer to Piccolo.

“Bulma, sit down,” Vegeta whispered harshly.

“Oh-ho no! Yamcha sounds like he needs help remembering things correctly! Yeah, pal. You’re lucky I was able to help you out a couple days ago, glad to see your body made it back in one piece from all the way over in East City. How was that flight, by the way?” she peeved, watching his aggravated reaction with amusement.

“Man, I was just showing I still care about you enough to come save you if you’re in trouble! You sure have a funny way of showing gratitude.” Yamcha said angrily as he stood to face her.

“You’re lucky you only had your ass handed to you that day! I could’ve let him finish you off, you silly asshole!”

Tien’s attention was once again diverted from the tournament to watch the argument in front of him. 

He whistled. “Temper, temper…,” He said, shaking his head. 

Piccolo gave him a low chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s be honest. This is about the only fighting Yamcha was going to see today anyway.”

“What are you trying to say, Piccolo? You wanna go, man?” Yamcha said, temporarily forgetting his current argument with Bulma.

“Yeah, if we face off against each other over there, where the real fighting is taking place,” Piccolo said, sticking his thumb out and gesturing to the improvised arena.

“Yeah, I knew that. Whatever,” Yamcha said lamely.

The current fight was considered finished when Goku was declared the winner since Krillin was now knocked out cold in the grass. Chiaotzu walked over to Krillin, picked him up, and began walking him over to Goku’s house. 

“Just knock it off, Bulma!” Vegeta shouted, turning everyone’s heads in his direction. He had had quite enough of their nonsense.

“What - are you serious? He started it!” she seethed, gesturing broadly to Yamcha.

They continued to bicker even as Krillin was carried off and Piccolo took his place to fight Goku.   
  
Vegeta tensed with agitation, wanting nothing more than to beat the hell out of something - whether it was Kakarot or the idiot Yamcha, it didn't matter to him

“And I’m ending the petty squabbling! You know what? To hell with waiting. I’m feeling pent-up enough as is. Woman - just sit down. It’s my turn now.”

Vegeta crossed his arms and Bulma, much to everyone’s surprise, listened to him…after flipping Yamcha the bird. Now that it was his turn to fight, she was ready to give her full attention to the tournament, wanting to see how well he had progressed since attaining The Legendary transformation. She would also get an opportunity to see how well her tech was working for him and she used that thought to keep her focused on her husband, forgetting about idle chatter and petty arguments.

Piccolo growled as the prince walked up to him and Vegeta shot him a glare, as if daring the Namek to test his patience further. Piccolo crossed his own arms and sighed as he complied, silently walking back to his chair.

“If it’s all the same to you guys, I’d like to go after Vegeta.” he voiced to the other fighters before sitting down.

Tien and Yamcha nodded in agreement, and they all patiently sat and watched the two Saiyans power up and ready themselves in their fighting stances. Their blonde hair and piercing eyes were captivating, and those that were still sitting on the sidelines couldn’t help but marvel at their power.

Goku glanced at Bulma, and then back to Vegeta. 

“So, is it true?” Goku asked.

“Is what true, clown?” Vegeta vexed, keeping his stance solid and mind focused for the fight.

“You and Bulma are married?”

“Yes,” he growled, stance still suggesting he was unperturbed by Goku’s intrusive questioning. “So what? I’m not here to make conversation, Kakarot. I want to kick your ass and hand it to you before dinner.” 

“Fine by me, I’m hoping we make this quick. Chi-Chi’s cooking a special meal for tonight and I wanna go try it!”

Vegeta lunged to attack first, missing Goku by a millimeter Goku retaliated, sending a quick series of punches in his opponent’s direction. Vegeta dodged every single one, guarding himself as he smirked.

“Wow, Vegeta. I’m impressed! You’ve improved so much since we last fought. You’re training is really paying off!” Goku complimented as they kicked and punched at each other with intense speed and precision.

“Oh, save me the paltry praise, Kakarot. Keep your mouth shut and focus on the fight!” he yelled, finally landing a punch in Goku’s side.  
  
Goku glared and flashed away from Vegeta, instantly appearing behind him and encasing his arms in a firm hold. Vegeta struggled for a moment before letting out an angry roar and after increasing his power, he flexed and broke free from Goku’s grip.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” Vegeta taunted fiercely. He put his arms together and produced a large Ki orb in his palms, aiming it right at Goku’s head before releasing it. The beam charged right for him but missed its intended target as Goku dodged and it exploded in glorious fashion behind him, sending trees and bushes into the air. As the cloud of dust settled, Vegeta struck out again for his opponent, this time trying to land as many blows as he could.

Goku held his arms up to deflect the powerful barrage of energy. He flipped into the air, and as his heel hit the grassy border of their battle ground, he powered up his signature attack.

“Ka me… ha, me…HA!”

The blast targeted Vegeta squarely in the chest, and as he caught the energy in his hands, Vegeta fought to keep it from touching his body by pushing it back with all his might.

“_AHHHH_…,” Vegeta shouted as he struggled to keep the blast from sending him over the parameters and into the grass, which would lead to his disqualification.

Vegeta fought with everything he could to keep from going over the boundary, digging his heels into the dirt as Goku pushed against him with his steady flow of Ki.

“No - _NOOO_!” Vegeta bellowed as he struggled to push the blast back at Goku.

His heel was touching blades of grass, and he was a mere centimeter away from his disqualification before he got his powerful second wind.

He took one step forward, and then another, and then two more.

He knew he couldn’t direct the energy to the sides, lest he accidently hit something or someone with it and cause serious damage, so he directed it straight above him and into the sky, much to Goku’s shock.

Goku’s attack fizzled out, and as it did, Vegeta primed another blast and instantly sent Goku over the boundary with its force.

“Aw, man. Looks like I’m out,” Goku said, grinning good-naturedly at his opponent. Vegeta returned the look with a scowl.

_What a pride-less, simple fool. _

“Damn. That’s too bad.” Vegeta powered back down, the glow he emitted dimming and fading out as he crossed his arms in irritation. 

“Hey guys! Dinner’s ready! It’s a surprise and there’s plenty for everyone!” Chi-Chi hollered out to the group.

“But Chi-Chi, it’s Vegeta and Piccolo’s turn to fight now!” Goku called back to his wife.

“_Arrghh_…Goku, your loving wife has slaved over a hot stove for 3 whole hours, you guys can continue beating each other into the dirt after the meal!! IT’S TIME TO EAT NOW!” 

“Eh he heh, alright honey, we’re coming, we’re coming!” Goku answered, cheeks now glowing red in embarrassment. 

“Alright fellas - and Bulma - let’s wash up and continue this after an awesome meal!” Goku told the group, and they all briskly made their way back to Goku’s house.

Everyone except for Vegeta, who hung back and kept his usual distance.

Bulma glanced over her shoulder and noticed this, but she knew that just because they were married now, didn’t mean he wasn’t sticking to his ways around the others.

**_You fought well_**, Bulma voiced through the bond.  
  
**_I am aware, silly woman.  
_**  
**_Well, was there anything to take away from the fight?_** she asked him, keeping their conversation going.  
  
**_Only that I’m angry Kakarot stepped out of bounds too early for us to really test my form,_** he responded with disappointment.  
  
**_True. Next time though, right? At least you bested him tonight and you get a chance for a wish!_**  
  
**_I don’t care about wishes, remember? Hey...are you bleeding by any chance? _** he asked her, remembering what happened the last time she tested her newfound abilities.

Granted she was injured and tired at that time, but he wanted to know how much this affected her physically.  
  
She glanced around her before swiping up under her left nostril like she had done several days ago.

Sure enough, she found a small trail of blood there and as she wiped it away, she gave Vegeta a worried look over her shoulder, showing him her hand.  
  
He kept his features cool and detached. But as Bulma turned back around, she felt him send tremors of worry down the unseen tethers of their bond and it was making her anxious.  
  
They all made it back to the house and as they walked inside, they were each met with delicious smells of beef and chicken.   
  
“Man, Chi-Chi, my mouth is watering! It smells so good in here!”  
  
“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast!…wash up first, then join Gohan and Krillin at the table,” Chi-Chi ordered, and they each went to various rooms to clean up.  
  
When they returned, they all took seats at the table as Chi-Chi served them trays and trays of wonderfully scented dishes of meats, soup, and rice.   
  
“The theme of tonight’s meal is curry, so there’s a little bit of spice to enjoy in every dish! Dig in and try to use utensils! I don’t want pigs at the dinner table!”  
  
“Good thing Oolong isn’t here then!” shouted Krillin, and received a couple hearty laughs from various friends around the table.  
  
Every Saiyan seated had wasted no time shoveling food onto several plates in front of them and the rest of the dinner guests with normal appetites ate casually and chatted amongst themselves.   
  
“I’m getting that first slice of cake!” Krillin announced, already finished with his third plate and making room for dessert.   
  
“Aw, man. I’m not even halfway finished!” Goku exclaimed, pausing to take a drink from his water glass.  
  
Krillin shrugged and smirked as he got up and left the table to snag himself a piece of the chocolate cake Chi-Chi finished preparing.  
  
Krillin gave her a smile and thanked her as she served him a nice, warm slice with a glass of cold milk.  
  
He left the dining area to seat himself in the living room. He chose to sit on the sofa and turned on the small television and flipped through a couple channels before settling on one that caught his eye.   
  
“Huh, that’s strange. The news is either getting really interesting, or this is just a Godzilla movie,” he muttered to himself as he watched events unfold on the screen.  
  
Rain gently began falling outside and, one by one, the Z fighters in the other room groaned. 

“Rain check on the tournament, then?” Krillin heard Goku say.  
  
“Yeah, dad. And next time, I wanna fight. So don’t plan it on a study day!” Gohan told his father.   
  
Krillin returned his focus to the TV and took another bite of his cake, and as he read the headlines, he froze and swallowed hard.  
  
“Uhh, guys? You’d better get in here and see this.”

* * *

**-Back at Dr. Donavi's lab and before the incident-  
**  
“General Quill…what will you gain by doing this, especially knowing the rate of success is so low?” Isola asked him, shaking almost violently.  
  
“I will get my revenge. That’s what I plan to do, doctor. I plan to serve my country through your success...or my sacrifice. But if it helps bring down the Argosians and that dangerous alien from Brief's labs, then so be it.”  
  
Dr. Donavi gave the General eye contact, noticing a determined expression.  
  
“At what cost…?”  
  
He ignored her question, letting his frustration be present in his face now, no longer being indifferent.  
  
“I want you to give this DNA to me, and I want to use it to become powerful. Guns and tanks won’t work on this level of threat. I want you to make me into a weapon and rid this planet of that alien and the woman responsible for housing him in our city. So get a fucking syringe ready and a table for me to lay on for the procedure,” he told her plainly.  
  
“Sir, I have to remind you that this is incredibly dangerous and unsafe for you -“  
  
“I don’t care! I’m sure your lab full of scientists can follow my demands. Let’s see if you can impress our military leaders with this new project. Let me be the first to pioneer into this field of biological warfare. And if you don’t - I will make you,” Quill said, the sound of him unlocking the safety on his laser pistol reverberating in the small glass chamber.   
  
Isola hesitated for a beat, before deciding it was useless to argue against madness.  
  
If he wanted to be reckless, let the responsibility be on his shoulders, not hers, she thought as she grounded herself and readied the equipment and a syringe full of the mysterious DNA, and then went to fish out her data and components for a second syringe, which she filled with radioactive compounds and synthetic steroids. It was still incredibly reckless and unethical to conduct this experiment. But with this new DNA, Dr. Donavi had no idea what it would be capable of.  
  
This was why General Quill chose her and her team to work on this task for him. It all clicked.  
  
“Let’s begin,” she said with nervous energy as her lab team readied the general to be strapped in on the operating table in the large glass office.  
  
She swabbed his neck with an alcohol pad, and as she prepped the syringe, her two lab assistants finished strapping Quill down on the table.  
  
“The first one won’t hurt. But the second one will. This should mutate your DNA, and we will assess what happens to your body, but it will need to be stabilized with something…a marrow or even spinal fluid, like I told you. We will have to experiment until we find the right fit,” she stated as she administered the first compound.   
  
He winced and she continued, giving him the second syringe.  
  
After several minutes, Quill began struggling against the straps on his body.   
  
Isola watched him with growing anxiety as he gripped the edges of the table, flexing and writhing in pain.  
  
“G-general Quill? Are you alright….sir?”  
  
He groaned.  
  
“No…the pain_….arghhhhhh…AHHHHHHH_!”  
  
His body began to grow exponentially, and one by one the straps ripped away his body and onto the lab tiles below.  
  
Isola shrieked in fear as Quill, who was now five times his original size, jumped onto the table and launched himself through the glass of the lab walls, leaving a trail of millions of tiny shards in his wake.  
  
Terrified, the scientists fled the facility and a mutant General Quill kicked down the laboratory door and leapt out into the night, ready to unleash hellish wrath on West City until his vengeance was satisfied and his targets annihilated.  
  
“WHERE ARE THEY….WHERE IS SHE??”  
  


* * *

  
**MUTANT TERROR IN THE DOWNTOWN STREETS OF WEST CITY**

  
That’s what the headline read at the bottom of the screen as Krillin watched an enormous mutated beast ravage the streets in East City above the scrolling text. It looked to be the size of a dinosaur!  
  
“What is it, Krillin?” Goku asked as he walked in the room, curious friends in tow.  
  
“This is what’s on the news right now. It looks like it was a guy at some point…but now it’s on a rampage downtown! We have to do something, innocent lives are at stake!”  
  
“What’s going on?” Vegeta asked, bringing up the back of the group.  
  
“Look, Vegeta. I don’t know what it is, but it sure is doing a lot of damage,” Krillin gestured towards the screen.   
  
Vegeta stood in front of the television and assessed the news broadcast.  
  
He watched as the mutant roared on the screen and the news camera panned over to several cars that still had their owners inside them - until the monster stalked over and began smashing them apart. As the citizens screamed in terror, the monster threw cars and made his way down the street towards the camera. The camera dropped to the ground as the one holding it abandoned their place to flee for their life. The feed then flickered to black as the mutant stepped on the camera. The screen cut immediately to a “Please Stand By” message card, accompanied by the sound of one long tone.  
  
The living room was filled with tension and silence as Vegeta turned around to face the group.  
  
“Let’s go,” he ordered as he started to walk towards the front door.  
  
Goku and the other fighters followed behind him.  
  
As Vegeta opened the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw that Bulma was in the ranks.  
  
“Bulma, I want you to stay here with Chi-Chi.”

"Yeah, B. This is dangerous. Stay here with me." Chi-Chi said in agreement.  
  
“No. I refuse to sit back and not do anything while that beast destroys my city,” Bulma countered.  
  
He grunted in irritation. He wasn't about to get into why she shouldn't go in front of everyone. He would just have to make sure she was protected when they got there.  
  
“We can't waste time with arguments. Stay with the group, and when we get there I want you to stay hidden. Got it?”  
  
“I heard you – now, let’s go!” she yelled as she ran outside and into the rain.  
  
Chi-Chi wished them all luck and locked her door behind them.  
  
The men all flanked around Bulma and broke into sprints.  
  
Vegeta ran behind her to scoop her into his arms as they took to the sky.  
  
They soared for some time before touching back down at the edge of the city, and they all continued to run towards the turmoil at full speed, following the path of destruction straight for the raging beast stomping its way through the city’s streets.  
  
She ran with the group and tried with everything she had to keep up as the rain beat down at her back.  
  
She picked up her speed at the sound of the crashing in the city, which they were headed straight for. Lightening crashed and powerlines sizzled as West City thundered beneath their feet.

They kept the pace, Vegeta leading the pack with Goku in tow as they ran towards the chaos. They were able to see disabled police hover cars and derailed monorails, void of their passengers as they had long fled - or worse.  
  
They could sense they were getting nearer now, hearing the smashing and crashing much closer.  
  
They reached Archer Street and immediately Goku was forced to jump out of the path of a flying car that had been thrown by the hulking mass standing across the way from them."  
  
“BULMA! I WILL FIND YOU.”

One by one, the fighters turned to their female friend.

_How the fuck does this monster know my name_? Bulma thought as she made eye contact with them, finally settling her gaze on her husband.

He was a live wire, alert and listening to the footfalls of the creature making its way towards the group, but his eyes questioned her, looking for any answers she could give. She looked up, and realized she recognized the being, eyes widening.

“General…General Q-Quill? Oh shit.”

“’Oh shit’ _what_, Bulma?!” Vegeta demanded.

“I-I - _look out_!” She pointed, as the massive General now wielded a powerline like a whip, cracking it down on the pavement near Goku’s feet.

He dodged it easily, but it was raining and the ground was wet, which made the General’s choice of weapon that much more terrifying as the electrical current flashed and lit the ground with an erratic blue light.

“Watch your feet guys - stay out of the water!” she shouted.

The men dodged puddles as they swiftly positioned themselves in front of the man-beast, who towered several heads above them. He struck out again, this time managing to hit Krillin, wrapping the frayed tail-end around his arm and electrocuting him, bringing him to his knees.

“PATHETIC.”

Krillin let out a painful cry as Goku rushed over to him.

“Don’t touch him, Goku!” Bulma yelled.

“It’s okay, Bulma! You need to get outta here! Hurry, before he sees you!” Goku unwrapped his friend’s wrist, absorbing the electrical current with his ki, his power enabling him to withstand the energy.

It moved through him and down to the ground, but he allowed some to stay and power his ki, jumpstarting his Super Saiyan transformation.

“Gohan! Piccolo! Keep him distracted- me and Vegeta will blast him with enough energy to knock him back and maybe we can stun him and get him to change back. No casualties, men.”

They nodded at Goku’s instruction and flanked the mutant on each side, ready to dodge and block.

“Bulma, get out of here! He wants you!” Goku yelled at her as he launched his assault on the monster, spurring her into action.

She quickly ducked behind a car, looking for the next place to hide.

“BULMA, I KNEW YOU COULDN’T STAY AWAY. WHERE ARE YOU?” The mutant man roared, looking from car to car, dodging Ki blasts from the fighters below.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ Bulma scurried from a car to an overturned bus.

But as she leaned against the metal for support, it hovered in the air for a moment before being thrown yards away.

“BULMA! THERE YOU ARE. YOU’RE MINE, BITCH!”

Before he could reach out to grab her, Vegeta launched his Galick Gun in a direct hit with his target, throwing Quill several yards away from the street and into a nearby building.

“Vegeta, no casualties!” he heard Goku yell, but he completely ignored him, scooping Bulma up in his arms.

“Woman, what did you do?” he asked her in an urgent tone as he made his way over to an abandoned vendor stall and shuffled her in.

“General Quill must have snuck more than he should have out of my lab the day he picked up my equipment he wanted. He stole…. your DNA, in my samples box. That’s the only explanation. You’re the strongest of my sample stash - he stole it - and used it to weaponize it. He weaponized himself. That stupid asshole.”

“Kami...What does this mean, Bulma? How do we stop him?”

She thought, then downcast her gaze from his face.

“You can’t do anything, because we don’t know how he shot himself up - or what his scientists paired the DNA with to stabilize his formation…he could continue to grow and mutate until he implodes - or worse,” she winced, “You can’t just shoot yourself with a DNA cocktail and expect it to stabilize. He’s already far too gone. You will have to hold him off until it…runs its course.”

Vegeta thought through her words.

“I’m still angry that you stole my DNA, but it made some very useful, incredible technology. Why didn’t you dispose of it, mate?”

She shook her head.  
  
“Hindsight is a bitch, isn’t it? I didn’t think anything of it, leaving it in the disposal box. It was supposed to be handled and thrown away already. I guess my dad was too busy. Quill was supposed to take his shit and go. I didn’t know he still had a bone to pick with me.”

He cradled her carefully, not wanting to stress her body out with her being newly pregnant.

That thought startled him as he remembered her current condition.

“You need to get out of here and find a safe place to hide while we take care of that beast.”

“I know where to hide. Let me go and I’ll make my way towards our company building. There’s a place I can wait until you guys give the all clear.”

She cradled his face with her hands and kissed him. He kissed her back, catching her lip between his teeth.

“You’re in so much trouble when we finish this.”

She winked at him.

“Aren’t I always?”

He hesitated, clutching her close to him and making eye contact with her before she smirked and leaped down from the safety of his arms. She landed in a crouch before taking off running from the stall and looking out from behind a tire.

The fight had already picked back up and the Z fighters had their hands full.

Her building had to be the one directly behind the fight, which meant she would have to make her way two whole blocks before she made it to her sanctuary.

Damnit.

Vegeta ran and dodged more debris and wreckage flying around from the fight.

He blasted the mutant hard in the chest, causing the hulking mass to pause.

“IT’S YOU! THE ALIEN FROM BULMA’S PROPERTY.” He chuckled dark and deep, “I HAVE SOMETHING OF YOURS, ALIEN.”

Vegeta took a defensive stance.

“Yes, I know, my wife filled me in on what you stole, you mutated ball of filth. Do you know what’s going to happen to you, or did you not think that far ahead?”

Goku looked over to his companion, confusion on his brow.

“What are you talking about, Vegeta? What did Bulma tell you?”

Vegeta looked onwards at the beast, who was occupied by Gohan and Krillin.

“Bulma stole my DNA for some tech in the GR and, in turn, the General thought it would be sweet payback to steal it from her, to get even for me threatening him to leave. Little does he know, he’s on a time limit. He’s apparently expected to grow and mutate until he combusts.”

Goku winced. “Ew…”

“Yes, ew. Now we have to protect Bulma so she can make it to her lab- “

“I SEE YOU.”

The beast was grabbing for something, and when it came into view, Vegeta’s breath caught in his lungs.

“No!!”

He flew to the ground below the beast, snarling and ready to fight him head on.

“Your fight is with me! Put her down or I’ll blow you clear out of existence! I don’t care about your death; you are but a mere speck to the power of a mighty Saiyan!” Vegeta bellowed angrily.

All fighters stood in a semi-circle around Quill, ready to take him down.

The mutant laughed at him before returning to his prey.

“BULMA. I NEED SOMETHING TO STABILIZE MY FORM OR I WON'T STOP MUTATING. THEY SAID I NEEDED A BODY FLUID OF SOME KIND.”

She struggled in his tight grasp.

“Who…is ‘they’, Quill?” she asked, gritting her teeth as she stalled for time.

“WHAT IS IT THAT I NEED? TELL ME OR I CRUSH YOU NOW!”

Vegeta looked up at her, his expression full of worry.

She held his gaze, his presence calming her.

“You need…spinal fluid. It mixes with a compound I have in my lab. To stabilize…your body.”

The large man smiled down at Vegeta and began climbing the side of the Capsule Corp. building.

“BULMA IS GOING TO PAY A VISIT TO HER LAB AND PICK UP SOMETHING FOR ME. FLUID. FROM _HER_ SPINE. TO STABILIZE MY NEW FORM.”

Bulma fought helplessly against his grasp, crying out in pain from the pressure. 

This set Vegeta ablaze with pure fury.

“LIKE HELL SHE WILL. YOU’RE DONE USING MY WIFE. DROP HER NOW OR SUFFER A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH.” 

Quill's ugly face smiled with twisted delight.

Vegeta aimed and shot a blast at the center of his back, dropping him to his knees.

Bulma was inches from safety that she would never reach, as Quill angrily bent her body with a final sickening crack.

Vegeta felt his heart drop straight to his feet at the sound.

“SEE…WHAT YOU… CAN DO WITH HER NOW, ALIEN,” Quill gasped as he toppled over.

Bulma rolled from his fist and out onto the street.

Vegeta descended on her in an instant, laying her out across the ground, assessing the extent of her injuries.

She coughed weakly.

“V-Vegeta, thanks for…trying to rescue me. I made…a pretty costly mistake... I'm so sorry. I love you,” she wheezed, struggling to form words around her halting breath.

The group clustered around them to get a closer look at what was happening.

“Shh, Bulma. Just relax. You’ll live, it will all be alright,” he said, stroking her hair, then moving his hand to her abdomen, trying to feel for his unborn child's Ki.

It was still steady and strong, unaffected by Quill’s crushing grip.

Unfortunately for Bulma, she wasn’t fairing as well, as he sensed her energy was rapidly fading.

  
Quill began to stir.

He was still alive, but something wasn’t right.

His body began to grow and shift, muscles and tissue ripping, bones popping and cracking.

Gohan cringed at the noises, and as they all watched, Quill’s fate was playing out before their eyes. He grew even larger than he already had - two, then three times in size. He screamed and groaned unnaturally, and the fighters began taking steps back, sensing danger.

Vegeta thought fast and picked Bulma up as gingerly as he could before taking off into the air.

One by one, the warriors took flight, and from far up above, they watched Quill eventually explode, carnage painting the streets with his blood and gore. It was a nasty, sorry sight, but they sighed in relief as they took off for Kami’s lookout, the current location of the Dragon Balls.

They needed to act quickly, because Bulma was fading fast.

She stirred weakly in Vegeta’s arms, not feeling the full extent of her injuries yet due to her state of shock.

They touched down several minutes later, and Vegeta set his wife down gently on the lawn as Goku and Gohan went inside to the location of the dragon balls.

Not a moment to spare, they had wishes that needed urgent granting.

Dende stepped outside and ran over to Bulma and Vegeta.

“No Senzu beans, I’m assuming?” Vegeta asked with urgency.

Dende shook his head with a sad expression.

“Figures,” he grunted angrily.

“We’ll help her, Vegeta. Bulma won’t die tonight. I promise.”

The rain continued to pour as Vegeta held his mate, his future, in his arms. He felt for the first time in a very long time the feeling of heartbreak.

If she died tonight, he was sure he wouldn’t make it to sunrise before following right behind her. 


	20. Bulma Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I figured I put out this chapter to give you guys something to enjoy while I figure out the remaining chapters in this arc. BundyShoes has edited up to this chapter!
> 
> I'm gonna be real with you guys, this chapter was messy to me. But you've already made it this far, right?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this update :)

While the rain continued its assault on the group, Bulma panted as she felt the pain hit her with full force. 

Her back was broken, and she felt so utterly helpless as Vegeta held her close. She could tell he was talking to their friends, but it all sounded like somber murmuring. 

She chose to think about her incredible amounts of misfortune instead of their conversation. 

There was a very real possibility that she could die, and it would be all her fault. She accomplished nothing - she didn't help her friends or Vegeta when she decided to go with them on this endeavor. 

Why…why couldn’t she have just stayed behind? 

She had everything to lose and, under normal circumstances, she would be losing it all. Vegeta, their rapidly growing child, her friends...she would be gone, and it would be all her fault. 

Except for the power of the Dragon Balls that would heal her, and everything would go back to normal. 

She would be healed, and everything would be as it was before the fight. Except for the fact that she fell in love with a Saiyan and because of that, a curse hung over her head - a constant reminder of her mortality. 

Maybe...it didn't have to be this way. 

This was her last chance to change the course of time. 

Nothing else worked, she felt so…utterly useless. Everywhere she went with the Z-fighters, or with Vegeta, she was always a weakness. 

A liability. 

Bulma knew her wish couldn’t be wasted. She needed to make the wisest choice the dragon was able to grant for her. 

She glanced at Dende, who was standing next to Gohan, both exchanging worried glances. 

“Dende, summon Shenron,” she prompted. 

Dende immediately stood at attention, “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Bulma!” 

Dende walked towards the dragon balls, arms stretched wide and eyes closed. 

“Eternal dragon…By your name, I summon you forth, Shenron!” 

The sky above them began to turn dark as the dragon materialized before the group. Lightning struck as the storm raged around them all, making the benevolent beast look frightening as his green scales reflected on the glow coming from the seven balls that sat before him. 

“_ SPEAK YOUR WISHES TO ME _ _ AND I SHALL DETERMINE WHAT IS WITHIN MY POWER TO GRANT _.” 

Dende glanced over his shoulder at Bulma and waited for her response. The thundering bellow of the grand dragon had helped Bulma recover her focus as her hearing sharpened. 

“I won’t die if you make this wish,” Bulma told him. 

Vegeta took her hand in his, not wanting to cause her body anymore distress. He felt he needed to impress how important it was to them that she healed. 

** _ Bulma, you can’t screw this up. I need you to come back to us…to me. You’re carrying something incredibly important. I…can’t lose you - I can’t lose you both, _ ** he pleaded to her privately through their bond. 

Bulma turned her head to look up into his face. His expression was grim - but his eyes always held his true feelings. 

Vegeta's heart was breaking, and no exchange of words or touch was changing that right now. The Saiyan prince thought about the prior events in anger, mostly at himself. How could this have happened? How could _ he _ have let this happen to her? 

His fingers curled into fists. This was his fault. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought against the chaos, he was feeling at the thought of losing her. 

“Hey, look at me,” she told him and, after a few beats, he complied, finding her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Listen - I’ve made up my mind. I can be as smart as I can be, but look what it does for me at the slightest physical altercation? I’m practically useless. What happens when it comes time to deliver the baby? I might be split in half for all we know,” Bulma lamented softly, barely audible, but he’d heard every word. 

Vegeta's hand drifted down to her belly, sensing out his child's Ki. His eyes went wide when he sensed it…sensed _ him _. 

Momentarily distracted by this revelation, he answered, “What nonsense are you spouting, woman? You…you’re not a weak - “ 

“In your eyes, all I can be is in the way - let’s face it. But this wish can change that.” She struggled to sit up, even as Vegeta tried to pull her further into his lap to keep her still. 

“We will bring you back if you succumb to your injury! Just lay down and stop struggling! This is bigger than us now – this is dangerous for _ him _, Bulma.” He lost the edge in his voice as he gave her a pointed look and her eyes went wide. She placed her hand over Vegeta’s and fought back her tears as she realized he knew they were going to have a son. 

“No…Vegeta, it will be okay, let me make the this wish,” she begged listlessly. 

He was already apprehensive about her condition, but her absurdity made his frustration flare again, and this time into rage. 

“YOUR BACK IS BROKEN. LET US FIX YOU. STOP MOVING!” Vegeta chastised. 

His outrage emboldened her, and through her pain, she quickly relayed her wish. 

“NO SH-SHENRON! Dende - tell Shenron to alter my DNA! Make me into a _ Saiyan! _” 

Vegeta was speechless, along with Goku and the rest of the Earth warriors, who had already gone quiet while witnessing the first emotional outburst Vegeta had ever had in front of them for anyone other than himself. 

This had astounded them, and as they watched Vegeta cradle their friend in his arms, it had each of them enraptured in various states of shock. 

Amidst the suspended disbelief, Vegeta was the first to break the silence. 

“That’s your wish?? No, that’s - that is preposterous. Absolutely ridiculous.” Vegeta scoffed as he held her to his chest, thumb rubbing circles over her lower abdomen and she reached up to cup his cheek, redirecting his attention back to her. Bulma held his worried gaze for a moment before she bent for a weak cough. 

She looked to Dende now for confirmation of her wish. 

“Say it, Dende. Please, see what the dragon can do, “she uttered breathlessly. 

Dende looked worried as Bulma fell back into Vegeta’s lap, eyes fluttering closed at last. 

He looked at Vegeta now, and the Saiyan glared back at him. 

Vegeta was finally lost to the conflict. He should have never said those things about her being a liability. He should have anticipated she would levy it against him. 

Hindsight was truly the biggest bitch. 

He tore his eyes away from Dende’s face, granting neither confirmation nor denial. 

Dende looked back to the mighty dragon before him and uttered the wish in his native tongue. 

When the dragon thundered out a response to the beings before him, they gave him their full attention as he would announce whether the wish was within his realm of power. 

_ “IT IS DONE. YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED _.” 

All eyes were back on Bulma. 

The anticipation was palpable as they waited for the apparent transformation to take place. 

What would become of this new Bulma? 

* * *

Each of the warriors took hesitant steps towards the couple as they waited for Bulma to show signs of improvement. 

Vegeta grew impatient, then from sheer and utter frustration let out a loud shout to the sky, holding the body of his wife as Goku and company gathered closer to them. 

Vegeta let out a warning snarl as they kneeled next to him, “If any of you makes even the slightest _twitch_ to try and take her from me - you will pay dearly with your life.” 

They all heeded their friend and sat in quiet anticipation for Bulma’s reawakening. 

After some time, with each of the men silently reflecting on their time spent with Bulma, Gohan spoke up. 

“Hey Vegeta? Um, I have something to ask you,” he told the prince, stepping to his side with trepidation.   
  
“Is that so? Spit it out then, brat,” Vegeta demanded, his eyes never leaving Bulma’s limp but beautiful face. 

Gohan put his hand on the older Saiyan’s shoulder. Vegeta flinched but didn’t snap at the boy to remove it. 

“C-can I give you a suggestion for the next wish?” Gohan offered, still anxious but wanting to express his idea. 

Vegeta wanted to do so many things simultaneously at that moment, from wringing the boy’s neck to laughing in his face. No option yielded favorable results. 

He chose to grunt and answer angrily instead, “Boy, I don’t know how many times I’ve said this - I don’t care about _ any _wishes right now, save for the one that’s going to bring her back.” 

Gohan trembled but persisted, “W-what if we wished back…Planet Vegeta?” 

Now Vegeta _really _wanted to laugh. But the situation at hand had him in no mood to give in and taunt the child. 

“Woah, now that’s a pretty interesting wish, son,” Goku interjected, brow furrowing with curiosity. 

“Hardly the time or the place to entertain that notion of pure ignorance, you _ useless morons _,” Vegeta hissed, exasperation evident in his voice. 

“Don’t worry Vegeta, Bulma is gonna come back – if she ever even left! Hey Shenron! I have a wish!” Goku shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. 

Everyone looked up at Goku as he addressed the grand dragon. 

“_MY PATEINCE IS WANING - SPEAK YOUR FINAL WISH TO THE NEMEKIAN, MORTAL _,” Shenron answered. 

Goku gave him nervous laugh and turned to Dende. 

“Hey, Dende, tell him we wanna wish the planet Vegetasei back, along with everyone that was on it before it exploded!” 

The group was once again filled with surprise as Dende nodded promptly and gave the dragon the final wish in his native tongue. 

Vegeta was, in a word, flabbergasted at such a reckless request. 

While the prince was stunned, the dragon uttered its response. 

“_THAT WISH WAS VERY DIFFICULT TO GRANT. BUT NEVERTHELESS, IT HAS BEEN GRANTED. I WILL BE DEPARTING FOR NOW. FAREWELL, MORTALS. _” 

When Vegeta finally came around, he was livid. 

“THAT’S THE WISH YOU WANTED? WHY?!” he yelled furiously from his place on the ground. 

"Great, that's just what we needed, dude! More jerks like Vegeta - and this time they can all come here and toss us around," Yamcha griped bitterly. 

Piccolo chimed in, "Yeah, I'm not so sure we stand to gain anything from bringing back planet Vegeta, Goku." 

Goku chuckled again, and this time his face was more apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, I just got this amazing idea - What if we had our race back and we could prove how strong we’ve gotten by fighting our strongest warriors one by one? We'd be able to best them, no sweat, and we'd have a chance to see our planet again! Awesome, right?” 

Vegeta kneaded his forehead with his hand, frustrated with the younger Saiyan’s lack of foresight. 

“Wrong. You have no idea what you’ve possibly done, Kakarot, you dense bastard!” 

“Oh, come on, Vegeta. I thought you would at least be somewhat glad to have your planet back,” Goku suggested. 

Vegeta’s mind raced with the various possibilities. Yes, his home world would be back. But how would they greet him when he returned? More importantly, he already knew how they would greet Bulma. It had his blood boiling. 

“What if you weren’t specific enough and _ Frieza _ was still on the planet? That couldn’t have possibly crossed your mind, could it?! Oh kai, how could this possibly get much worse?” 

At that moment Vegeta felt something brush his thigh. He checked for his tail and found it still wrapped tightly around his waist. He looked lower and found what had touched him. 

Now present on Bulma’s slender lower back, grew a long blue tail. As promised, the wish had manifested itself physically. 

He gently grasped the new appendage and the first emotion he felt was relief followed almost immediately by despair. 

His eyes were wide as saucers. 

His human woman was now one amongst his people. She changed her entire being to be with him without the curse, making a wish to rewrite her unique coding. To be more resilient. 

This was her request. 

To change what fundamentally made her Bulma - his woman. 

Species specificity be damned, she had brought out the closest thing to adoration and love he was ever allowing himself to feel. And now she gave up everything she was - for him. 

And he knew deep down fate would still be cruel despite this transformation, due to that idiotic last wish. 

Goku was the first to break the silence, “So, if she’s a Saiyan now, does this mean she’s gonna train with us?” 

Vegeta could feel his anger bubbling behind the hand now settled on his face. 

“Kakarot. Are you completely dispatched mentally? Look at her! We don’t even know if she’ll wake. Unbelievable!” 

He could feel his Ki vibrating around him just waiting for the right amount of provocation in this moment. 

To burst forth and avenge her and kill the idiot Kakarot. 

Vegeta was so distracted by his temper he almost missed the first hasty breath Bulma took in her new form. 

The air she allowed to fill her lungs felt like fire, along with the new pain in her lower back. 

She wheezed as the vices seared like brands, initiating her into her new life as a new being - as a Saiyan female. 

She sat up from Vegeta’s legs and almost wished she didn’t as her head spun full tilt. 

“Ugh, why can’t I see straight - did I die?” she asked wearily. 

“Wow, what a loaded question. Bulma, do you remember what you wished?” Krillin answered her with bewilderment, still reeling from her revival. 

“Uhm, I…wished to become…a Saiyan.” 

She shook her head and looked over to Vegeta’s face, but he was intently focused on something on the ground next to them. 

She felt it before she saw it. 

Bulma then proceeded to let out the loudest scream her diaphragm could support. 

Vegeta angrily covered her mouth with his palm and in the next moment her vision went black as she once again fell unconscious. 

* * *

“Three days. Three whole days to see if she will adjust to this. What she wanted.” 

Vegeta was pacing the floor. 

He was waiting for the moment that she opened her eyes, so that he would be the first one she saw; he made it his personal mission. 

Only he could stay in the room, as he didn’t want anyone seeing her in a state of undress. 

The others would knock and ask him through slits in the door about how she was and if she was awake yet. He would only grunt and scowl at them, before pressing the door closed again. 

The regeneration tank would hiss and bubble, and he would urgently walk to the glass and peer inside, only to be greeted with the same closed eyes, teal hair loose all around her form, floating in the liquid sustaining her current condition. 

_ How long would it take? _

It was beginning to drive him crazy. 

It never took this long when he was unconscious, beaten to near-death by Zarbon or Frieza. 

Was their son even going to be okay after all this unnecessary turmoil? 

She would need an immediate diagnostic to scan her vitals, the baby included. 

She had asked for this! She didn’t even know what she was getting herself into, but with all that had transpired, all that she had sacrificed, he didn’t have the heart to tell her right now, awake or not. 

He would eventually - he planned on it. 

She needed to know what she would be up against on his planet. 

On their planet…? 

No. In his eyes, she would always be an Earthling - who now had the genetic makeup of a Saiyan…? 

His brow furrowed at this thought. He didn’t know what to make of this. It was completely out of his depth. 

She was out of his depth. 

He would never be able to understand how she could be so fiery and passionate in one breath, and in the next, so calculated and frigid. 

It had him apprehensive to think how she would carry herself as a Saiyan. 

She was going to be strong - he knew that for an absolute fact. 

It was such an enlightening thought that he started to get excited for the first time since she had transitioned. He could finally physically spar with her and not worry about knocking out her teeth with a simple tap to the cheek. Or flinging her across the room with a miscalculated gesture of his arm. This could actually work out in their favor. 

After she safely gave birth, of course. 

She’d experience flying now - on her own, without complaining about feeling ill! 

Yes, this could be what he needed - what _ they _needed. 

He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly hopeful that this would work. She was a Saiyan! They could complete their bond...no more burning curses! 

This new realization brought his eyes back to her face again. 

She could be a full-blooded Saiyan mate. 

_ Holy Kami _ \- they could have a pure Saiyan bloodline now. 

He had decided a long time ago she was the only female he would ever make his mate, the only other individual that understood him, who took the time to form what should have been an impossible relationship with him, for all the adversity he had presented for her. 

That and his multitude of sins that followed him like an army of corpses, constantly keeping him awake at night, reliving the fighting and killing all over again, reliving the nightmares that were once an authentic reality in a distant past. 

She faced that head on with him, never judging him for his atrocities, and that alone made her saintly, and his realizations were further solidifying his choice. 

He had made peace with what had happened but could finally feel the pieces of his life coming together, tightly weaving back from when they were torn apart and scattered amongst the cosmos by Frieza and his PTO filth. 

He could barely stand it now. He had worked himself into a frenzy in his mind, and it was personifying before him as she listlessly floated in the tank. He couldn’t keep still in all of his unrest. 

_ Wake up, wake up, wake up!! _ He shouted over and over in his head. 

After a couple of tries to reach out through their bond, he realized he would still have to wait. He was anticipating the moment where she would open her eyes again, finally revealing the endless oceans that were held in her irises. He was eager to see them again, but he backed away, finally deciding to plant himself and try very hard to meditate. 

One long hour passed before he heard her rouse in the tank. He had become so attuned to the quiet of the room that he knew the instant a change had occurred. 

He opened his eyes and was there at the glass window in an instant. 

Finally. 

Her long lashes fluttered open, her eyes unfocused and weary as she stirred from her long slumber. 

Then her panic set in. 

Bulma’s head shifted as she scanned the tank, but she settled on the figure peering in at her from outside of the glass window. 

Vegeta made quick work of the buttons on the control pad to release her from her confinement. She wasn’t going to know her own strength, so she could break the glass on accident. 

The liquid began spilling out and she pulled the mask off her face, gasping as she brought in another source of oxygen into her lungs. 

Vegeta pulled her the remainder of the way out of the tank, pulling electrodes and other monitors from her as she made her way into his arms. 

She was coughing and she was wet, but awake and alive, much to Vegeta’s contentment. 

He held her for several minutes before she finally was able to look at him, to at last register who was holding her. 

Her eyes widened to saucers as she shuffled out of his arms quickly. 

She looked down at herself and saw that she was almost naked, down to only plain black spandex covering her lower region, but none for her chest, which made her blush furiously. 

She clapped her hands over her breasts as Vegeta took in her demeanor - and her figure for that matter - from her tail to the small bump in her lower belly, the first subtle signs of her pregnancy. 

Vegeta had never seen someone more positively radiant in his entire life. 

Her pregnancy had her glowing - color spanning her chest and cheeks from her embarrassment and he finally took the hint her glare was signaling, ripping his ravenous eyes away from her body out of propriety, blushing profusely as he did. 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Bulma, honestly. And you call me the prudish one. _ Hmph _.” 

“What the actual hell are you talking about?? Did you peek in on me or something while I was in the shower one night, you perv? I may be beautiful - but damn. You act so repulsed by me on any given day ending in a “y”, and now you can’t keep your eyes off me?!” 

That was her. 

That was his Bulma alright - but was she implying - _ that they never _\- 

“Woman! What are you screeching about? We are mated… You are my wife, you silly banshee. You’re carrying my son, right now, in your belly. Of course I’ve seen your naked form. Many times - minus the tail.” 

Bulma was now staring at him like the ground had opened and had spat him out like a demon from the depths of hell. 

A look that lacked recognition, he quickly realized with growing distress. 

“Bulma - you don’t - remember?” 

His concern amplified as she shook her head firmly. 

“Vegeta, are you telling me,” she motioned with her hand to where his child was currently nestled, “There’s a baby…inside me, right now…?! Oh my kai- “ 

He realized what she was about to do and, before she could sound that very loud alarm, which would alert several other very anxious people of her awakening he had his hand to her mouth, holding her to him as she made her silent scream to his face. 

“Bulma - contain yourself, woman! We have all been very patient waiting for you to come back to us. It appears you are experiencing some signs of short-term amnesia, which could possibly be remedied if you would only _ CALM DOWN _,” he expressed in a hushed and urgent tone. 

She glared at him furiously before she clamped down on him with a firm bite. 

“MOTHER FU- “ Vegeta gave out a furious shout of his own as he instantly recoiled from her teeth, and with that force she had certainly made her point. 

Undoubtedly Saiyan. 

“HOW CAN I BE PREGNANT?? WHAT HAPPENED TO ME VEGETA? I DON’T WANT A BABY, I _ KNOW _YOU DON’T WANT ONE - THIS IS A FULL-ON CRISIS!!” Her shouts of indignation were certainly going to wake most of the house at this point. 

So much for keeping her awakening to himself. 

“Will you keep your voice down and let me ELABORATE, WOMAN?? Do you think I would foolishly impregnate you, _without _your knowledge? Do you think I would stoop so low as to _RAPE _you??” he asked her with righteous indignation. 

But Bulma wasn’t listening. 

She made for the door and he attempted to contain her with his arms for a second time. 

The instant he did, she broke from his hold and, with a loud yell, she kneed him in the groin with every bit of the new strength she could muster which sent him to his knees in agony. 

He could feel how strong her Ki was radiating even as she heatedly left the room, and it would have been impressive if it hadn’t just royally pissed him off. 

This had Vegeta in his own form of umbrage bordering on outright fury. It almost made his head spin with ire. 

He knew he needed to get to her and calm her down. 

She was going to need help coping with this new and unexpected bone of contention and he needed to reign himself in if he was going to get them anywhere close to regularity again. 

He let out a very animalistic roar as he made his way to find her. 

* * *

Bulma was making her way through the compound at a rapid pace with swift precision. 

Her family had woken up and tried to stop her, but she made her way past them quickly. 

She was still disoriented, shaking as she made her way to the backyard. 

She heard someone coming for her and she stopped and snarled. 

It was Yamcha she could smell. 

And Goku. 

They had almost reached her, but before they could, she ran back towards the compound and down towards her lab, her only known safe haven at the moment. 

She reached the doors and pulled herself quickly inside, effectively sealing herself in. 

As if that would stop a powerful Saiyan male. 

Ever persistent, Goku reached her lab and proceeded to break in to Bulma’s sanctuary. 

The woman who owned said room was ready for the intrusion. 

“GOKU, GET OUT.” 

Standing poised for a fight, Bulma held a needle high in her left hand, breasts in her right, ready to strike her best friend if necessary. 

Goku flinched instantly at her threatening weapon, and as soon as Yamcha reached the room, Goku jumped to hide behind him. 

“N-no NEEDLES, BULMA!” Goku let out a shrill wail, and Yamcha groaned. 

“Man, you’re like my brother, so no offense, but you have a pretty stupid phobia.” 

Goku just whimpered pitifully as he watched Bulma point the needle at him with a scowl on her face. 

“JUST STAY BACK!” Bulma yelled. 

The next person to enter the room was Vegeta, and he froze in the doorway to take in the scene in front of him. 

Bulma was holding her heaving, naked chest and brandishing a syringe with a rather large needle and a wild look in her eyes. 

Goku was cowering and Yamcha reluctantly shielded his friend from the feisty female. 

Vegeta would have yelled to the men to avert their eyes, but his wife’s modesty problem was taking a back seat momentarily. 

“Well, well. I would say I’m surprised - _ you idiots _ \- but I’m not. Bulma, you know you can’t scare me, and try another stunt like you pulled in the regeneration room and you will have both me and Kakarot to contend with. Now are you going to come with me the easy way, or do I just do it my way? I’m giving you the choice, in light of your condition.” 

She looked at each of their faces and settled on Vegeta’s. 

She gave him a fierce glare, eyes like violent storms promising vengeance. 

Right up his alley. 

He gave a stony glare right back at her and stood calmly, momentum building under the surface, so he’d be ready to grab for her if she so much as flinched. 

After what felt like eons, she looked back to Goku. 

She stepped towards him, then quickly brought the syringe down in front of him, close enough to cause him to shriek, Goku yelling “NEEDLE!” as he continued positioning Yamcha as his human shield. 

The flinch was well worth it. 

Satisfied for the moment, Bulma made her way towards Vegeta with hesitation, waiting for him to grab her again. 

When he didn’t, she made her way past him and into the hallway. Just as she turned into the space, Chaps darted out from a doorway, brandishing a tranquilizer gun. 

He quickly shot four darts into his daughter, and as Vegeta caught her, the look of betrayal in her eyes said it all – there would be hell to pay. 

“H-How could you – you jackasses,” and those were the last words Bulma could say before she collapsed heavily in Vegeta’s arms. 

The prince smirked. 

“Four shots? How potent are those darts, Chaps?” Vegeta asked his father-in-law. 

“Well, enough to stop four elephants. How’s that for potency, son?” Dr. Briefs questioned. 

Vegeta continued smirking, “Perfect.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So think about it. I know it's probably weird to change Bulma, but how long were they going to put up with that curse, right? 
> 
> And I thought Goku bringing back Vegetasei was perfect, especially since he's always craving a good fight. What better way to introduce the next arc, right? This is where the real fun is going to begin, and I can't wait to show you where it's all headed.
> 
> *So yeah the memory-loss part is a little contrived, I've been told. But I'm cutting it really short. Promise. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Tell me what you guys think!
> 
> Be safe, stay well
> 
> -Elbordony


	21. She's Back (Edited)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long. This chapter was hard to write. The next one probably will be too. So feedback will definitely be encouraged. Anyways, I hope you all are well and are still enjoying this story, I'm getting to the good stuff, so I need to remember not to get so caught up in these weird, in-between chapters.
> 
> Editing credit goes to BundyShoes for her syntax prowess :D
> 
> **Last time you all saw Bulma, she was tranquillized by Vegeta and Chaps. Let's see how well this played out. xD

When Bulma came to hours later, her temples were throbbing painfully.

“_Ughhh_…my – my head…,” she uttered, but when she went to touch it, she found herself bound in restraints, unable to freely move her arms and legs. She was also able to parse through her daze that she was in her father’s lab, and that she was laying on his examining table. Her new tail laid next to her on the table and, try as she might, she couldn’t really move it about.

She sighed internally.

They at least managed to clothe her, giving her a medical gown to wear, along with about ten cords lining her head, arms and chest. She felt a heavy strap against her forehead and she realized that this was where most of her pain was coming from.

She felt like one of her father’s medical experiments, and it felt strange being the one on the table for once.

“What the fuck…,” she groused, squinting at the bright lights above her head as she tested her eyes.

“Language, Bulma,” her father chided. He wasn’t looking at her but was focused on the computer monitor in front of him, which currently displayed the various scans and diagrams of the inside of Bulma’s head.

Bulma looked around and found her father. Standing next to him with his arms crossed was none other than Vegeta. What an unlikely pair – her father and the Saiyan prince. They were both facing away from her, illuminated by the images on the bright screen.

She wondered what could have possibly convinced them to work together on her without so much as a gripe…

_ And that bastard probably had my father sedate me. Damn him, that hurt, _she thought back angrily to the tranquilizer darts they shot her with.

She remembered the moments before she collapsed in his arms - all the heated emotion she felt at being cornered like an animal and then to turn around and be tranquillized like one seconds after. It had her balling her fists in frustration, her blood freshly boiling at the notion that her freedom was being withheld from her once more. She started to fight her restraints, feeling the leather straps snap and give way with her new strength. It made her feel good so she kept pulling, able to maneuver her limbs more easily in the straps. Unfortunately for her, she was under scrutiny.

“Stop,” she heard Vegeta tell her, “Those are just to hold you in place temporarily. You don’t know your own strength yet. We don’t need you testing that here, so stay still.”

He came to stand beside her and watched for any sudden movements. He kept his gaze on her as she narrowed her eyes.

“Bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself right now, don’t you?” she spat at him, full of pent up aggression.

He could tell she was ready for that rage to be released on something – _or someone_. But she would simply have to wait.

“You’d like to think that, Bulma, but circumstances have pulled me away from my training – yet again. So, the sooner we have you go back to normal up there in that thick skull of yours, the better,” he smirked.

“I don’t know my own strength – is that what you said? Well, with the way you two treated me, I’m very tempted to try it out anyway,” she warned, feeling surly and unwilling to listen to reason at the moment.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, woman. If you don’t cooperate, we will have to put you back under until your father finishes what needs to be done,” Vegeta chastised, glaring at her for her defiance.

Vegeta wasn’t even going to try to talk with her through their bond unless he wanted her to freak out and abandon reason completely. He could only sense the anger she was unwittingly sending his way and grit his teeth with having to be bothered with this in the first place.

“I have to put her back under now regardless - her neural channeling is almost complete. Keep her still for me, will you?” Chaps asked, and Vegeta obliged, holding her head carefully as Dr. Briefs prepped the anesthetic.

Realizing what was about to happen, she tried to pull away from the Saiyan’s grasp.

“No – NO!” Bulma screamed, beside herself as she felt the prick of the needle go into her neck and her father inject her, once more putting her to sleep against her will.

She felt her eyes droop and, as she slipped back under, she vaguely felt Vegeta stroke her hair before everything faded. 

* * *

While she drifted below consciousness, she heard a loud snapping, like something was lining back into place with immense force. She felt it and it hurt her greatly before the pain dulled, becoming nothing more than a minor annoyance. She lost any concept of time as she floated in the haze of her induced sleep. It could have been minutes or hours that went by when Bulma finally regained consciousness, it made no difference to her.

She felt herself sleeping peacefully at that point, and it was when she found herself again through the haze of anesthetics that she heard the voices above her, discussing matters amongst themselves.

Bulma’s eyelids felt as though they were weighed down with lead, so she chose to listen instead of interjecting.

“Has she woken up yet, Vegeta?”

“Her eyes are still closed, but I felt her stirring.”

“Boy, oh boy, is she ready to pick a fight with you,” Chaps whistled. “You reckon her memory returns and she still feels the same way…how are you going to go about your relationship? Will you continue to treat her like a human, or will you consider her Saiyan?” Bulma heard her father ask.

“Just because she doesn’t remember the past couple of months, doesn’t negate the fact that we are bonded. That will never be broken, so long as we both are living. I will treat her as though she is both because I consider her now both Saiyan and Human – I must. It’s what makes sense,” he decided, shaking his head.

_ Bonded? Me and Vegeta are bonded? Oh yeah…I vaguely remember him biting me the night of my mother’s banquet- _

Bulma had to stop her recollection, as the pain rose sharply any time she tried to breach the wall of what held her recent memories. She could feel she was making progress though, because she was able to retain more information.

Chaps gave a small shrug and tapped in some commands on his keyboard. He turned and gave Bulma’s forehead a rub, then used his electrode pen to give her several tiny shocks along her hairline.

“Are you upset at her choice as well?” Vegeta asked quietly.

Chaps didn’t answer the question immediately, as he was distracted with his work.

“Hand me that tool…no, not that – yes that one. Thank you,” Bulma heard her father tell Vegeta. She could feel things moving around her head, and then the weight was lifted, making her feel even better than before. She sighed audibly.

“It was her choice,” Chaps answered after some consideration. “Whether or not you and I accept it, she does what her mind is set on, and she won’t stop until it’s complete or it’s hers. She’s wired like that.”

_ Damn right I am, _ Bulma thought again_. I chose to become a Saiyan and I just know it will be worth it…_

“_Hmph._ So, this device will fix her memory, correct?” she heard Vegeta ask, changing the subject.

“Well, I’m betting my psychology and mechanical engineering degrees on this procedure working - how’s about that for reassurance?”

“Fine, fine.” Vegeta kept his arms crossed as he watched his wife in what appeared to be sleep. Little did he know she was wide awake, working hard on piecing together all the information that was flooding back into her memory.

“Were you able to get in touch with Galactic Patrol?” Chaps idly conversed as he went back to his computer.

“Not yet. Bulma’s sister said to give her 48 hours for them to give her an official response.”

“Good. Tights is a fantastic intergalactic liaison. I’m sure we’ll have the status on planet Vegeta soon enough.”

_ Planet…Vegeta? My sister? Wow, they have been busy lately. I’m sure they’ll fill me in when I can finally keep my eyelids open, _Bulma thought miserably, tired of being out of the loop and even more tired of being put to sleep.

“When are you going to formally add yourself to our family, Vegeta?”

Bulma’s heart skipped a beat.

“As long as it takes for her to wake up and remember the past couple of months, Chaps,” Vegeta stated as if it were obvious.

“You know how to ask her now, don’t you?”

Bulma heard Vegeta grunt with irritation, and she could just imagine the reddening of his cheeks. What she wouldn’t give to see Vegeta’s facial expressions during _this_ conversation…

“One knee? With the ring?” Vegeta asked with a notable level of discomfort.

“Precisely. Just like I told you. We’ll hold a moderate ceremony for you both, and I’m sure she will appreciate any effort you manage to put into doing this for her, son.”

“_Ugh_. That idiot ex of hers did the same act of ‘proposing’. It looked ridiculous - _and downright undignified._ Why can’t I just ask her instead of groveling at her feet?” Vegeta groused as he remembered that weakling in his own proposal, noting how pathetic he looked and he wanted nothing to do with how Yamcha courted _his_ woman.

“’Undignified’? Quite the contrary. It is an act of reverent respect to bend one’s knee to a future spouse. You are asking her to assume a role that is one of the most important positions you could ask for in a woman’s life. Her equal – her ‘other half’, if you will. This is an esteemed position here on Earth, as mating probably is for you on your home planet. To request her decision in such a manner shows the severity of your dedication you will give to her. Men on this planet have adopted this practice over centuries. It’s not uncommon,” Chaps deliberated.

“Yes, well, if it shuts you all up and maintains her reputation on this silly planet, I suppose I will concede with this one courtesy,” Vegeta huffed, clearly wanting an end to this conversation.

“That’s all we ask. Thanks for doing it this way, Vegeta. And don’t worry, we’ll be sure you have top notch tech advancements to train with for a fitful wedding gift.”

“Whatever. You had better hope I’m ready to defeat those androids after this is all said and done, Briefs. If you value your planet and your family, I really hope for your sake it will be enough.”

“Of course. _Our_ family is my main priority, I assure you.”

“Good.”

Vegeta, satisfied with the conversation, leaned in and gazed at his wife’s beautiful features. He was already anticipating a return of her previous behavior, and hoping her father’s work would be enough to fix her. He needed her back completely.

_ Please come back to me, _the prince pleaded silently.

Chaps cleared his throat, ready to address his daughter and wake her from her artificial slumber.

“Bulma, dear. It’s time to open your eyes. We need to ask you some questions.”

“What - do you have an answer key, _dad_?” she answered immediately, startling the old scientist as he wasn’t expecting her to rouse so quickly. Vegeta merely raised an eyebrow at her surliness, already sensing her level of consciousness moments before.

Chaps cleared his throat, “Your _husband_ is the answer key,” he told her as he quickly fixed his glasses on his nose. “Now quit your grousing, Bulma. We need to know if my treatment worked.”

“You won’t get an answer out of me so long as I’m still strapped like an animal to this damn table,” she seethed, pulling at her tethers for effect.

Both men watched her warily and, as Chaps sighed, Vegeta went to unbind her from the straps.

When she was finally free, Bulma quickly sat up and shot a punch straight for the Saiyan’s face.

His reflexes made him much faster than her so he instantly grabbed her fist and put it back down into her lap, which earned him a fierce glare from his fiery female.

He smirked at her and got in her face, putting his hands on both of her knees, “All in due time, mate. You’ll get to work out your frustration and I get a sparring partner for this afternoon. Now, tell us - what do you remember?”

“Everything,” she said simply, rubbing her freshly unbound wrists. She was still angry she couldn’t hit him, so she kept her glower down in her lap, refusing to give him eye contact.

Vegeta froze and looked to Dr. Briefs. The old scientist’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, though silently pleased his first attempt could be the last attempt.

Vegeta backed away from her and crossed his arms, “And yet you still want to hit me?” Vegeta questioned, cocking his head to one side.

“Yes. I still remember that I was tranqued, asshole, and I’m _still_ pissed about it,” she vexed.

“Fine. But what _specifically_ do you remember, Bulma?” Vegeta pressed, wanting to get this over with so he could have things back to the way they were and spar with her in the GR. He really wanted to contribute with her recovery by helping her cope with her new attributes. But for now, the task was to fix her memories.

“Hm. Where do you want me to start?” she asked, picking at her medical dress, trying to distract her head with idle activity before she needed to think - and the pain would inevitably return.

“How about…what you think of Vegeta? That’s a pretty good place to start, considering you didn’t remember the evolution of your relationship,” her father suggested while he ran another analysis on his computer, scanning data for errors.

Vegeta felt his face heat up and he frowned. This was about to get uncomfortable for him and he was already not looking forward to it.

Bulma put her finger to her lips as she thought, “He started out so grumpy and closed-off. He was such an asshole. We rarely had anything good to say to one another. But then we talked more, and spent more time together, and I realized there were things I liked more than I disliked about him.”

“Oh, really, Bulma? You weren’t exactly pleasant to talk to either,” Vegeta hissed in his defense, feeling the need to voice his own thoughts.

“Just let me finish, will ya? Gosh – _anyways_,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I would listen to Vegeta and found that the way he said things to me was rude, but I got over it when I understood what he meant. And I realized I _liked_ that. I also realized I paid a whole lot more attention to you when we got closer – like how you like your coffee sweet – three sugars, two creamers. You like crime dramas. You love sparring with someone, either physically or vocally. You love Earth sunsets, your favorite color is ocean blue. You miss your real home but you’re comfortable on Earth. You go for swims to de-stress. You love my mother’s cooking. And I can say with utmost certainty that you love me, whether you want to admit it out loud or not.”

As she finished, she looked straight at Vegeta, holding his eye contact as his scowl grew deeper, his cheeks redder.

Embarrassment was evident on both of their faces, but Bulma didn’t care.

“Woman – must you say those things in front of your father…honestly,” he growled, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

She giggled, even though her temple throbbed angrily, “You boys asked me what I remembered and what I thought about you – is it enough?”

Her father cleared his throat. “Almost, although that was a great start. What project were you working on after the Gravity Room was finished and the bots became obsolete?”

Bulma let out an irritated huff as she grew impatient. “Is that one necessary? I invented sturdier training bots that I later called drones, one of the most notable advancements I’ve made to date. State-of-the-art, durable, and ready to take on an angry, full-blooded Saiyan,” she smirked and Vegeta returned it.

Chaps tapped away on his computer keyboard as he notated her progress.

“Okay, now I need you to examine your tail. Before you blacked out, Vegeta mentioned you looked at your tail and it triggered a negative emotional response, so let’s try to see if acknowledging that new tail will cause the same reaction. Here’s to hoping it won’t…,” Chaps finished, crossing his fingers for effect.

Bulma did as he requested and felt for her tail. As she held it in her hands, stroking the blue fur back and forth, something made her feel uncomfortable about handling it in that way. She looked to Vegeta, as if to silently question what was going on and he cleared his throat and pointed down to his own tail that was wrapped around his waist. She took the hint and wrapped it back around herself, glancing up to see his cheeks were beet red.

_ That was weird _, she thought.

Vegeta briskly walked over to Bulma and took her hand, “Enough. I think it’s safe to say she is fine now. I will take her to the GR and test her strength.”

“Well, wait – do you feel better now, Bulma?” Chaps questioned.

“Aside from a splitting headache, sure. I could use a good tension release. And some Tylenol. Let’s go, I’m ready. Thanks, dad,” Bulma said, walking over to quickly hug her father before she made her way to the lab door to leave with the Saiyan prince.

“Sure thing, honey,” Chaps said as he watched his daughter walk away, thinking in that moment about how much she’d grown as a young woman, while she walked side by side with her husband.

His daughter was still growing up, right before his eyes and as he returned to his computer, a fresh tear prickled in his eye.

“Oh, how the time can fly by,” he said to no one in particular as he settled into his research once more.


	22. You're the Boss, Applesauce (Edited)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter closer to where I want to be. I'll freaking get there eventually!  
Enjoy!
> 
> Edited by the lovely Bundyshoes :)

“Keep your tail tucked around you. It’s not indecent to see your tail, of course. But it is considered a very delicate appendage and if another Saiyan witnessed you stroking it like you did in the lab, they’d question your sanity for being publicly indecent. It’s along the lines of…” Vegeta’s face went red as he thought about its equivalence.

They were currently stretching in the GR and, as they prepared to practice sparring, Vegeta felt he needed to educate Bulma on some general Saiyan etiquette.

Bulma understood his embarrassment, “Basically it’s like if I were to pull my top off and start fondling my breasts in public, right?” she asked effortlessly.

He shook the image from his head, cheeks burning, “Yes, that is an accurate equivalence.”

She grinned. Whenever he was crimson and burning with embarrassment, she knew she would always be endlessly entertained.

He cleared his throat to ease the tension he felt at their conversation, “Alright, I’ll go easy on you for now, but we will keep working on increasing your strength - and that will require effort.”

He readied his stance to fight and she followed his lead by mirroring his posture.

“Are you implying I’m going to be lazy?” she asked off-handedly.

“Quite the contrary. I’m implying you’ll be too busy and you’ll shirk your training to squirrel yourself away in that lab of yours,” he smirked.

“Fair point. But I won’t do that if my work requires me to train for what we need to do next.”

“Well you’re not going to my home world with anything less than a Saiyan elite’s power level. It’s already going to be hard enough to pass you off as my mate, considering you aren’t royalty. Much less, you aren’t considered a real Saiyan since you weren’t born on the planet and tested for your position there. The officials won’t know what to do with you, and if you can’t prove your strength physically…let’s say it’s going to be hard to get you back to Earth in one piece. They’ll want to kill you for being an anomaly - and I can’t have that.”

Bulma blinked back tears she didn’t realize were threatening to spill onto her face. She wouldn’t cry – couldn’t cry at the information he was giving her. It was the truth and, as harsh as it was, she needed to appreciate him giving her the chance to try at all. He could just leave her here on Earth, safe and tucked away from the perils they were bound to face on their quest to gather intel on the planet’s re-establishment in the galaxy. But he knew, as well as she did, that her presence was important. He wasn’t a low-level soldier.

He was the Prince of an entire race.

Who he picked as a mate was of high importance. The fact that she was already carrying his heir to the throne made it that much more pertinent for her presence to be made known. The sooner she became accustomed to being Saiyan, the better. Time was of the essence.

He spent the next hour perfecting her form before she could even try to land a kick or a punch in his direction. Her core was growing softer as the days passed, so he needed her to keep pushing to maintain her muscle and keep a stable core. She was going to need every ounce of training time he could give her to be ready for what was to come.

Vegeta paused at that thought, looking at his mate with curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” Bulma asked.

“How do you feel?” he asked, reaching out and placing a hand on her belly.

She blushed at the sudden intrusion, taken aback by their change of pace.

“Good, I guess. I’ve gotten the hang of morning sickness – sort of…and I think I’m fine. Why, should I be blocking myself better?” Bulma asked him nervously.

“I don’t remember a great deal about Saiyan women, since I was young and only interacted with the few in the palace, but they are considerably stronger than human women. I don’t remember meeting any pregnant ones and that might be because our people had long since progressed from internal pregnancies to external,” he explained.

“So, what you’re saying is that I’m stronger and can handle a punch or two in the gut. Great. Should we do that – have an external pregnancy I mean?” she asked, placing her hand over his.

He kept his gaze on her torso, even as he noticed her eye contact. This was another conversation he wanted to avoid, because he knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

“I remember the incubation pods they would keep the infants in until they became ready to fight…they were kept on the first floor and I remember how unsettling it was to watch them float – hundreds of Saiyan infants, all sleeping without worries or knowledge of the outside world. Most of them were kept there…I was kept there,” he recalled.

An involuntary shudder went down Bulma’s spine at the feelings he silently conveyed to her.

“I guess the better question then is…would you want to keep our baby in a pod?” she deduced, trying to fish for a straightforward answer this time.

He retracted his hand and crossed his arms over his chest, pondering over thoughts triggered by the subject. If they put their baby in an incubator, the baby would probably be safer while his parents figured their way around the planet. But something was telling him not to trust that plan.

“Vegeta?” Bulma asked, waving an impatient hand in front of his face.

“No,” he told her, “No, I do not want to do that. I want you both as close to me as possible when we’re on my planet – no chances for us to be forced to separate from our son, or have him used as some sort of bargaining chip in a power play with someone like Frieza, or even my father.”

She appraised him for a moment before sighing. “Well, it’s nice to know I _could_ have the option to avoid natural birth. It looks and sounds painful,” she expressed with a scowl.

He shrugged, “Well, if you can handle training and fighting, I think giving birth will come easy enough.”

“Says you! You don’t have to worry about passing a small watermelon out of your- “

“Enough!” he cut her off, losing his own patience, “No more, you will be fine – I promise. Remind me to share with you a secret when that time comes. Alright? Now, let’s continue training.”

“Secret?” she asked, obviously intrigued.

“Yes, don’t ask any more questions,” he growled, observing her stance as she readied herself to face him.

“I’m hungry,” Bulma fussed as Vegeta straightened her posture – for the eighth time.

“You don’t get to break for lunch until you can get to this position correctly by yourself. I am not going to stay easy on you - you aren’t human anymore. We break today when you can effectively show me a strong stance.”

“_Ughhhh_,” she groaned, already having enough for the day and they hadn’t even gone over much more than katas, “Come on. I know you wanna do more than this. I’m sure your muscles are just itching to be tested. Stop being a perfectionist for like, five minutes and put me to the test!”

“You want to play like that, mate? Fine. If you can land a punch in my face, we’ll break for lunch and I’ll even let you pick the dessert we have with dinner.”

“Seriously? Alright, challenge accepted!”

Bulma stood in the strongest stance she could display, ready to show him what she was made of. She knew how strong he was, and that alone intimidated her and humbled her as, to her, he was the strongest being in the universe, aside from Goku.

She was smart and, through their repetition, she was able to easily remember the positions she was instructed to maintain when challenged. It was hard for him to admit, but Vegeta could see she was making significant progress - even better than he was giving her credit for! But for every punch she made, he was ready to counter it with that smug, insufferable smirk on his face.

Frustrated at not landing a single punch anywhere on him, she stopped momentarily.

“Do you give up yet, Bulma?” he asked, slight teasing in his tone.

She glared at him, sweat dripping down her temple.

“No. I’m just getting started, _your highness_.”

He grinned arrogantly at her use of his title. He knew there was one way to goad her into action, and this was it.

“Well, prove it. I’m sure you still couldn’t best Yamcha, and he’s human,” he taunted.

“What was it that you said before – he’s considered level 0? I’m about to outrank him,” she said as she ran towards her haughty Saiyan husband.

She started to formulate a strategy as she shot punches and kicks and he continued to dodge them. Her mind was in overdrive as they sparred quicker, each punch she shot countered by a skilled block. That’s when she began anticipating when his arm would follow his hand around to meet every one of her blows and, through this sequence of repetition, it was obvious: he was too fast and with masterful precision, he effortlessly met her, blow for blow. She wasn’t going to hit him anywhere, regardless of tenacity or amount of effort she was giving. His speed was too much for her to breach. Just as the realization that she’d been bested hit her full force, her anger began to take over. She wanted to scream in frustration, but she knew he would only mock her for her emotions getting the best of her. This pissed her off even more as her attacks became less calculated, more spontaneous.

He quickly put an end to their fight by grabbing her fists and then locking her in his arms, pulling her in to a tight hold that to anyone else would look like a lover’s embrace, but to Bulma, it was crushing her top half, effectively stopping her from attacking him further.

“Ugh! Let go of me!” she screamed furiously, feeling super charged and unwilling to be subdued, kicking her legs into his shins in a vain attempt to get him to let her go. The frustration she was feeling was also being fed directly through their bond, so Vegeta knew it was time to stop her.

“Do you know why I’m stopping you and letting us end our training for the day?” he asked her with a serious tone.

She looked up and noticed his smirk was gone. He wasn’t taunting her.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me,” she spat, still full of an insatiable desire to beat him into the floor.

“I stopped you because you let your emotions get the better of you and that is not how Saiyans fight. I don’t want to ever let you get so carried away that your emotions take over your instincts and your ability to fight clearly. Emotions are dangerous on the battlefield – they can get you killed.”

She looked away from him and gave a glare to the floor that could melt a hole through the metal platform, a simple “Fine” was all she could manage to say through her anger. This new inner passion to fight startled Bulma, but it also made her feel physically determined to demonstrate her strength and it was beginning to feel as natural as a temper flare up. 

He appraised her for a moment before loosening his hold, raising an eyebrow as she ripped herself from his grip. She was acting just as he did when he was first learning to conquer the art of fighting. He could easily let his anger carry him away and, though he was highly intelligent, it made him calculate his movements too much – just like her. This made him realize he needed to treat her like a younger version of himself – a young, hot-headed Saiyan who was too smart for his own good, except he wasn’t going to expose his wife to horrible torture or imprisonment for misbehavior or poor performance. He was to respect and protect his beloved mate – he couldn’t imagine her being subjected to abuse and torment. Not that any of that would come from him, he would still anticipate adversaries of the likes he faced to try and beat her into submission, but he would fight to keep those foes at bay. He would take the pain and punishment if he could keep her from harm.

He was there to bear that burden.

“Take a deep breath, Bulma. Don’t walk another step towards that door unless you have calmed down. None of what we do in here transfers out there, do you understand?” Vegeta instructed with authority and power in his voice.

She paused. Then after biting down on her tongue - very hard – she managed to do what he asked of her. She visibly inhaled, and then after a couple seconds, she released her breath. After a few cycles of calming breaths, he had made his way over to her, stepping in front of her, and taking her by the shoulders.

“I will be stern with you, mate. You will remain here while myself and the others go to planet Vegeta without you. Swallow that pride of yours - as a Saiyan you haven’t earned the right to have it yet.”

She bit back another strong urge to spit in his face and closed her eyes.

**_I’m trying to calm down. But I need food to calm my cravings and, considering how pregnant I am becoming, you’re lucky I haven’t been nearly as hormonal as I could be, _**she spoke to him as calmly as she could through their bond.

**_  
Fair enough, _**he responded with in kind, tentatively watching her face for signs of physical distress. When there wasn’t any, he realized she would probably stop being affected by the bond since she was now a Saiyan.

He sighed and followed her lead as she stepped around him, walking towards the large metal door of the GR and opening it, intent on getting her meal.

What he didn’t expect was the bright, metallic-sounding flashes that were bombarding both him and Bulma as they started to make their way across the yard.

* * *

“Son of a bitch!” Bulma screamed, rubbing her eyes as media members swarmed the couple mercilessly, lights flashing in the couples' faces as they stumbled into the yard.

“Bulma! Can we get a statement - and one that is a little more family friendly?” one reporter asked, holding a pen and pad.

“Why have you hidden yourself away?” another yelled out of the crowd.

“Is this the man you’ve been seeing?”

“Rumor has it, you’re pregnant – but who’s the father?”

“Are you married – why haven’t you publicly announced your engagement or wedding?”

“The people want to know – billionaire heiress and baby drama? What are your answers to the scandalous gossip?”

“UGH!” Bulma exclaimed, still recovering from the flashing lights and stumbling backwards into Vegeta, who was in a state of his own bewilderment by the scene unfolding before him.

He caught her deftly and managed to pick her up, carrying her bridal-style and running as quickly as he could through the crowd of cameras that descended onto the Brief’s property.

“Who the fuck are they?” Vegeta growled furiously as the crowd followed them to the patio door.

“Don’t say anything until we get inside,” she directed as he yanked the door open and pulled them both inside to the safety of their home.

The paparazzi was still snapping away on their cameras as the blinds were shut quickly by the incensed Saiyan female. She was hoping for all she was worth that they hadn’t seen her tail.

That’s all she needed- to feel like a trollop for not having a public wedding ceremony and be considered a freak by every human being on the planet.

Vegeta let his wife down and after she was on the ground, he rubbed his eyes and readjusted to the indoor lights. He realized promptly after their assault that he now hated cameras and wouldn’t hesitate to break them if something like that was to happen again.

Bulma rested herself against the wall and, after tightly shutting her eyes, she buried her face in her hands and slowly slid to the floor. Vegeta watched her come apart and wanted to comfort her but caught sight of who was currently occupying the kitchen. Bulma’s parents had just tucked into their own lunches when the afternoon drama struck, and were now sitting at the table staring at the two Saiyans that had just burst inside.

Chaps sighed, shaking his head and taking a bite of his food, “I told you both that this was bound to happen. Bulma is a famous heiress. This is as close to royalty as it gets on this planet for her, Vegeta - you know, for your reference. She knew she needed to calm the public and make a formal appearance, and this is the consequence for not getting to it.”

“This didn’t come out of nowhere, dad. Someone knew – someone tipped those vultures off!” Bulma yelled, bitter and angry about what transpired.

“Someone in our company probably – tired of you not coming to conferences and making regular public appearances, I assume. I’ll get to the bottom of it. But you two need to make this right – otherwise, it will never end and your reputation will be toast, my dear.”

“You know what – screw them, then! I know that I’m doing things right, why do I care what _they _think!? I’ve always felt like a freak my whole life – no friends, too smart for grade school, too young for college – I’ve had better luck with aliens than my own kind, how screwed up is that??” she cried.

Vegeta offered her his hand, trying to get her to stand up so he could console her, but she wasn’t having it. She ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Vegeta stood in front of his in-laws, still trying to gather just what the _fuck_ was going on around him.

Chaps pointed towards the various types of sandwiches and side dishes on the kitchen counter.

“Just sit down and eat with us, then bring her something to eat after she’s cooled off. She sounds like she’s met her limit of stress - she should come around after a nap or soak in the tub.”

Vegeta followed what Chaps suggested willingly, as he was starving and wanted nothing more than to eat his own stresses away.

After a couple sandwiches, Vegeta was feeling more within his depths and, after several potato chips, he felt he could address the situation calmly.

“I’m assuming those people with the cameras are what you consider your subjects?”

Chaps let out a laugh, “No, my boy, they aren’t subjects – they are just the mouthpieces for modern media. They’re purpose is to spread the news, whether it be factual or not. News is news to them.”

“The gossips,” Vegeta surmised.

“Yes, precisely. The gossips for the whole world to hear. The people here aren’t considered subjects anymore, but you’ve married a prolific celebrity that has quite the following, that’s for sure. Bulma has had to deal with the media her whole life. She doesn’t usually let it get to her. Being in the public eye can be stressful, but I’m sure preparing to be a mother, losing part of her memory, and joining a new species hasn’t exactly helped her remain calm as of late. She needs another vacation if you ask me.”

Vegeta picked up another sandwich and, before taking a bite, realized he might actually have a way to lift her spirits tonight, given to him by the man sitting across from him at the table.

Vegeta finished his meal and turned to Chaps after grabbing a couple plates for his wife. “Do you think tonight…I should ask her?” he questioned hesitantly. 

Chaps smiled, looking the Saiyan over and appraising him for a moment. He wasn’t much older than his daughter, so he still had a lot to learn. Even being a prince from an alien planet didn’t excuse him from his ability to understand their customs, so Dr. Briefs was going to make him do this correctly so he would have the satisfaction of an old man’s blessing, whether this meant something to him in the long run or not.

“You’re forgetting the first step, lad.”

Vegeta paused, looking at the man with surprise.

“What else could there be? I thought I only needed to ask her and present the ring. Why are you tricking me – I trusted you,” the prince glared dangerously and bared his teeth, not wanting to feel betrayal when attempting to express emotions, something he was already not good at. 

Chaps only chuckled.

“Calm yourself. Vegeta - ask me first. Another Earth custom is to ask the father for his blessing over the marriage. That’s all there is left to do before you ask her. You’re ready, and I think tonight would be perfect,” Chaps said, folding his hands on the table.

Panchy sat and watched the two men happily, sighing with contentment, “Young love - I just love this! So sweet.”

Vegeta swallowed the lump in his throat. He thought it was only going to be a challenge to ask _her_. But come to find her father had to be asked first? This planet was really toying with his level of comfort. He had never needed to ask for acceptance once in his life. But here he was, vulnerable and afraid of possible rejection and he absolutely _hated_ it.

“I – I uh…um,” Vegeta stuttered, wishing he were taking on Frieza, Kakarot, _anyone_ right now and not having to do this. “I ask for your…permission – to marry your daughter,” he managed to say, holding his breath as he finished the words.

“Well, boy? Did you think I was going to tell you no? Of course you have my blessing!” Chaps beamed, proud of Vegeta for being open to doing things correctly.

The Saiyan quickly let out the breath he was holding with a small sigh of relief as he grabbed things for Bulma to eat.

“Thank you, son. Now go up there and give her that food! She can only stubbornly hold out for so long! Then ask her like I told you, and you’ll have yourself a happy wife!” Chaps said happily, smiling at the prince.

“Tch. Yes, whatever – we’ll be back down for dinner,” Vegeta muttered, just happy to get this over with and be able to retreat to his bedroom with Bulma.

He sped up the stairs to finally ask Bulma and be completely over all of this uncomfortable nonsense for the day. He thought these rituals were unnecessary and didn’t understand why there were so many steps involved. But if it set things right for Bulma, he supposed he could suck it up and get it over with. After all, she had done so much for him, this was the least he could do for her.

He reached for the doorknob and felt incredibly nervous out of nowhere, almost wanting to walk back down the stairs and work off this nasty stress in the GR instead.

But he knew he couldn’t cower and bow out on this mission if he wanted to set things right.

“Bulma?” Vegeta asked as he opened the door.

He walked inside and noticed the bathroom light coming from under the door had just been shut off.

As Bulma walked out, she saw Vegeta standing in front of her, frozen, as if he’d been caught in the middle of something.

“Vegeta, what is it?” she saw the food in his hands and sighed happily, “Oh! Thank you, I definitely need some food right now, I was ready to chew my leg off!” she joked, taking the plates from him and seating herself on her bed.

Vegeta sat down next to her, trying to coax himself into fishing in his pocket for the last piece of the marriage puzzle that was hanging over their heads for several weeks now.

“Bulma – I,” Vegeta began, then paused, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Yes?” Bulma said, muffled by her turkey sandwich bite.

“I’ll let you eat, just listen,” he grunted, wanting to make this special for them, but felt that floundering feeling again, out of his depths and drowning in his emotions. He swallowed hard and began again, “When I first met you, I didn’t want anything to do with anyone but myself and obtaining immortality- “

“Very romantic beginning,” she teased.

He sighed, “Just let me get through this, please,” he cleared his throat and tried again.

“When you met me, I was a broken man, not sure what to expect from life, considering I was a slave to a tyrant who destroyed the only home I knew. It made me do a lot of things, but one thing it did right was lead me to you, even if I didn’t see that clearly from the start. You and your family have managed to make Earth feel like home, and even though it is not customary in my culture to do this – I want it to be known that I, Prince Vegeta the fourth of Vegetasei, did right by Bulma Olivia Briefs when I asked her, in typical Earth fashion, to become my wife. You are already forever and always considered my mate, but will you do me the honor - will you marry me, Bulma?”

As he finished those five words, he realized he needed to position himself in front of her on the floor and so he uneasily made his way to get down on one knee. He cleared his throat in obvious discomfort and offered her the ring her father instructed him to give her.

Bulma had already stopped eating halfway through his touching words and gave him her full attention. By the end, she was in tears, giggling when he got down in front of her. She knew this was all going to happen eventually, but in the spontaneity of his proposal, she found herself as surprised as when he first chose her as his mate.

She got up from the bed to stand before him and as she examined the large ring with closer inspection, she let out a gasp.

“My grandmother’s ring… oh my kai – dad had you give me _this_ ring? I – can’t believe it, I miss her so much – “she realized he was still waiting on her to reply to him, but she couldn’t speak as she covered her mouth with her hand, noticing her tears falling much faster now.

Bulma knew he didn’t understand why, but he was sharing a sentimental moment with her that coupled with his proposal had her falling to her own knees and embracing him tightly, crying heavily into his chest.

“Vegeta, you are so special to me, and this – thank you. I needed this more than you will ever know. Yes, a thousand times yes, I will marry you!” she exclaimed happily, raising his hand that held the precious heirloom.

“Place the ring on this finger, okay?” she instructed and, as he lowered himself to her level on the floor, he gently placed it on her left hand, looking up into her bright blue eyes, which were still shining with unshed tears. He felt the love and appreciation she had for him in that moment and it rendered him speechless as he rested his forehead against hers, finding himself emotionally spent and in need of a good nap.

“You’re tired, I can feel it. Let’s take a nap, and maybe try training again tonight? Can’t have us distracted with all this nonsense, wasting perfect sparring time, right?” Bulma smirked.

Vegeta started laughing at her words, and the sound was so genuine and pleasant that Bulma couldn’t help but join him. He kissed her forehead tenderly and pulled them up from the floor.

“Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea,” he told her while she was looking down momentarily, marveling at her new ring. She looked up and smiled at him, and he gave her a small smile back, pleased that she took all of this so well.

“We both have our work cut out for us, don’t we?” she added while she began shuffling plates from the bed to the desk.

He grunted in agreement and helped her remove her plates from their bed as Bulma pulled the blankets down, settling herself in next to her husband when he laid down next to her.

He turned on his side and gave her a serious look while wrapping her in his arms.

“Alright, mate. We get one hour-long nap. Then it’s back to training. Got it?” as he said this, he wrapped his tail tightly around her waist, pulling her in closer to his body. She held her hand up to her face to hide her grin, as she understood there was a smile still in his tone.

“You’re the boss, applesauce,” Bulma yawned, taking her own tail and wrapping it around his middle to return the gesture. She instantly felt a rush of emotion from him, and as her breathing deepened, the warmth of his adoration for her had her in the most comfortable and fitful sleep she’d honestly ever had.

Her life was becoming full of new beginnings, and she realized that this one was now her new favorite one.


	23. Oh So Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a solid chapter.  
-So I hope you guys like it because I impressed myself hehe

When they both felt rested, Vegeta and Bulma managed to get up and prepare for some more training time in the GR. Vegeta thought it was great to be able to train with someone at last, but his woman wasn’t anywhere near his strength or skill in fighting, so where it was nice to train with his mate, it only rapidly served as a test to his patience and it kept him from fighting at full capacity.

“Again.”

Vegeta stood in front of Bulma, intently focused on her form as she attacked invisible foes, punching and kicking with all her might, secretly wanting to impress her spouse by following his commands, but growing tired of no actual Saiyan contact.

“I want to actually hit you. Not air,” Bulma huffed, sweat beading across her brow as she flexed her arm.

“You don’t need to. I already know how strong you are and where you need to improve.”

“You can sense that just by looking at me?” she asked incredulously.

“I can feel you. Your energy is strong. But it’s not enough – not yet.”

“Well – why not? Haven’t I changed? What are you gauging from? Human or Saiyan standard?” Bulma questioned, feeling hungry and already looking forward to having dinner.

“For a Saiyan, you are right under where you need to be for a low-class warrior. You can give yourself a little credit. You were only human.”

“Don’t do that,” she told him flatly.

“Do what?” he queried, confusion creasing his brow.

“Go easy on me - I’m a weak Saiyan. But I need to be more than that and I’m super frustrated that it’s taking so long to get anywhere! I need more push-ups? Sit-ups…protein – what am I missing?” she pushed, irritated with her lack of perceived progress.

Vegeta shook his head. There was that heat again – it was singing to him, all her simmering ire and discomfort. It was so strange – she was completely Saiyan now from head to toe. But she acted so…so human. Her instincts, her disposition…all remained perfectly human.

He hesitated before he spoke and what came out of his mouth next surprised him, “Why did you make this wish, Bulma? Now that you’re Saiyan...” He trailed off, not wanting to finish his statement. He knew better than to ask this, but for some reason he said it and Bulma was quick to react, making fists at her sides. He crossed his arms in preparation for more of her anger to bombard his mind.

“Now that I’m Saiyan…what? I’m not human anymore? I’m not me anymore?” He stared at her, not sure of where he wanted to go with the conversation. It was more complicated than what she was expressing; he knew she needed to change something to make life for them easier, but not to fundamentally change the Bulma he knew and loved.

He locked eyes with her and dropped his arms from their crossing, “If I had it my way, I would rather have had you bound to me – risking you flaying alive – than change anything about what makes you Bulma. _My_ woman.” The heat in his gaze made her feel flush, but what he was saying struck a nerve.

Bulma allowed what she thought he was implying to hit her like a punch to the stomach.

“How dare you. How _fucking_ dare you,” she admonished, “So – I change a part of me and suddenly I’m someone new? I’m not special, or delicate…someone who needs to be watched and protected? Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that what you wanted me to be? Strong, more autonomous, not always up your ass for everything?!” Bulma was livid.

She was quickly working herself into a fury, resisting, but failing to not let her anger get the best of her.

Vegeta clenched his own fists and walked to stand before her, a vein appearing in his neck as his face reddened and his embarrassment flared.

“You were already perfect," as he said this, he heard her inhale a quiet gasp of surprise, but he continued. "You didn’t need to change anything about yourself. Sure, I want you to be more durable, so in that regard, your transformation came to be a convenience. But you didn’t need to do this for anyone but you. Don’t say you did it for me - or anyone else but yourself. You did this purely out of your own necessity, and it is your responsibility to learn to deal with it. Do you understand?” he told her, hoping to finally clarify his feelings on her transition.

She lowered her head angrily.

He was right in front of now - he reached out to lift her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms and as she continued to look elsewhere, he let out a heavy sigh, “I want you to meditate until you can train without your emotions running away with you. You need to reign it in if you want to blend in with our people when we reach Vegetasei. If you get killed by someone for challenging them with no strength to back it up – I die along with you. You can’t be selfishly thinking of your own desires to beat me, or any opponent for that matter. You need to fight to protect your mate now - this is your new mindset. That’s why I’ve concluded I can no longer train you.”

“What – then who will train me?” she asked, looking into his eyes, shocked at his statement and now worried he might be changing his mind about her and having her fight, making something inside of her grow anxious and desperate.

“It pains me to say this, but…I need Kakarot to train you, at least for now. Our bond changed a lot of things, but your transformation changed everything. You physically can’t fight against me - you’re too green to separate your feelings for me from your task to train, and even though it wounds my pride – it will help you be a better fighter. I’ve given you a firm foundation – use it to kick his ass for me.”

She felt such despair in that moment that she could have shot beams of Ki from her own hands if she only knew how. She felt like dropping to the ground and pounding it in with her fists but chose to glare at him instead.

“What now then?” she asked through gritted teeth and pulling his hands from her face, still feeling as though he had given up on her.

He felt it all through the bond, so he was able to interpret her reaction.

“I will never give up on you, Bulma. I – I’m proud of you. Very proud. In fact, I’m so proud of you, that I will teach you this last thing before I begrudgingly turn your training over to the clown. You will learn to use my attack – Galick Gun. I will not have you learn that depraved turtle man’s Kamehameha wave and if I catch you using that attack you will answer to me and the punishment will be severe. Now watch my movements and imitate my stance.”

Vegeta had decided this is how it needed to be for now. He needed to train on his level again, and she needed to train without her emotions getting in the way. Kakarot was an idiot – no doubt. But the Saiyan could fight, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

At dinner that night, the table was quiet until Chaps broke the silence.

“I learned who tipped the media off from the other day, Bulma. After I made an announcement, they came forward. I dealt them their punishment and news about your upcoming ceremony and a date, as I explained you had already quietly been married and kept it from the public. I stated it was for privacy’s sake. So hopefully, with the ceremony news now being circulated through the company, gossip will run its course for us and thus, no more drama,” he reported. This felt like good news to him, so he continued to eat his rice and curry with contentedness.

“You hear that, Vegeta? We’re so in love, we jumped the gun and now that the public thinks we had a shotgun wedding, I think it’s fair to say I’m no longer the media’s harlot!” Bulma said, though her tone was amused, her face was not.

Vegeta ignored her purposefully, as he knew she wasn’t being serious, and continued shoveling chicken into his mouth and not caring about the subject of conversation.

Chaps felt the opposite, grin instantly dropping from his face, “ Hey, don’t take shots at me. This is your best bet. Take solace in knowing the next time you will have to be present for the public now is at your wedding ceremony, not out of nowhere when you want to work in the GR.”

Bulma rolled her eyes, “Fine, You’re right. Thanks.”

Bulma’s appetite wouldn’t let her stop to argue with him further, though she normally would have. Lately, her hunger had steadily becoming insatiable. Her growing child was taking every bit of nutrients she could supply for him, so she had no choice but to keep up or end up starving. This thought had her remembering something very important about weddings: the dress.

Bulma threw her fork and knife down on the table, “Oh my god…guys - _my dress_! My wedding dress. Oh, I hate this – I’m pregnant, I’m not gonna fit right in my dress, I’m gonna walk down the aisle and you might as well put a feeding trough next to the altar because I’m gonna look like a damn cow! Oh no…” Bulma looked up to the ceiling to keep herself from crying.

Vegeta on the other hand had to keep the twisted smile from creeping up across his face. That woman could have vanity so powerful at times it could put even the haughtiest princess to shame. It simultaneously aggravated and amused the Saiyan prince as he feigned complete focus on his meal, not wanting to be sucked into the latest problem. Bulma’s life currently sustained an orbit of instability around her on any given day, and when he could avoid being pulled into the nonsense, he did so with enthusiasm.

Panchy finally felt useful in the conversation as she got up and stood next to her daughter, pulling her into her arms to comfort the newest assault on Bulma’s young adult insecurities, “Honey, you are going to look beautiful. Vegeta loves you – you’re going to take his breath away when he sees you! Isn’t that right, Vegeta dear?”

Vegeta only grunted uneasily and stuck to eating his food, not wanting anything to do with this conversation either, especially since he decided they had officially left the realm of logic in his mind.

**_Bulma, shut up and eat your dinner. Stop being foolish, _**was all he offered to her through their bond.

Bulma managed to calm her hysterics at that, hugging her mom and promising to set aside time with her to pick out dresses that week and plan for the ceremony.

* * *

As the following day dragged on, so did Bulma’s new training and work regimen. After she woke up that morning, she left Vegeta’s side to make her way downstairs to the GR for quiet meditation. She needed to make sure she was in there before Vegeta so that they didn’t cross over each other’s time. Bulma used her training session to strengthen her mind to focus more on her body and calm her emotions, using her breath and Vegeta’s meditation techniques to ensure she was successful when she began her training with Goku. Then she went to the kitchen to eat breakfast hours later, where Vegeta would drill her on Saiyan mindset and freshen her memory on their language, having a full conversation with her in his native tongue.

She then moved into the lab, where she worked on a couple new projects her father told her the company needed assistance with, along with giving her some new information about what her sister, Tights, learned from the Galactic Patrol. By this time she was mentally and physically wiped out, but still she persisted, not wanting to risk losing the precious time she still had before the wedding to prepare for what lay ahead for her and the other Saiyans.

“Your sister told me she received a message from Jaco,” Chaps informed his daughter as she soldered another delicate wire onto a circuit board. They were currently working on enhancements for an AI system that would advance cybernetic capabilities in their drones and anticipate attacks from assailants on the front lines of the current Argosian war. It was proving to be a real bitch for Bulma, though, as planning her wedding and stressing over the training she would be receiving from Goku was weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Bulma wiped her sweaty brow with a cloth when she finished her task, satisfied with her portion of the work, “What did he have to say about Vegetasei?” she asked, sitting back in her chair.

Chaps stopped his work and recalled the conversation with his eldest daughter from earlier that day.

“The knowledge that Vegetasei has rejoined the galaxy is greatly disturbing for them to hear, since the Saiyans are such a dangerous and hostile race. He told her that he is already busy around the galaxy, patrolling a situation on the Unia-Omega Belt, and the rest of his unit has their hands full as well. Vegetasei was allegedly a level 10 planet on the Galactic Invasive and Planetary Threats Scale, or GIPTS for short. He briefly stated that we would need to provide our own unit of patrolman to investigate the planet, since all that’s left to patrol are recruits and none of them are prepared for a level 10 GIPTS planet.” Chaps paused to take a swig of his water before continuing to brief his daughter on the rest of the message.

“Wow, that is a great deal of important information…” Bulma frowned, realizing that another intricate plan was going to need to be enacted before they could even touch down on the planet. The list was growing, along with Bulma’s stress level.

“Jaco told Tights we would need our own skilled patrolman to gather the intel that the Galactic Patrol needed to determine if their planet is worthy of reinstating. The planet needs to comply or it be destroyed. So Vegeta needs to consider this when you both choose who is going to gather this intel, because the fate of his planet once again hangs in the delicate balance, for the continuum of peace of our universe.”

Bulma’s eyes were as wide as saucers at her father’s grave message, “Oh my gosh – that _is_ serious. Good thing Vegeta is almost done with his training,” she said, checking her watch.

“One more, very unsettling message you’re going to be responsible for telling him when you do see your husband, because quite frankly, I value my life,” Chaps added.

Bulma gave her father her undivided attention, communicating non-verbally for him to continue.

“Jaco said when they surveyed the planet, there were several large ships stationed on the planet. The insignias on the ships led Jaco’s unit to the inevitable conclusion - that the Colds were present.”

Bulma felt her heart constrict, making it momentarily hard to breathe, “This means…oh my kai-“

“Yes - the evil tyrant Frieza is once again alive and occupying Vegetasei.”

Bulma’s hands went to her mouth, stricken with panic at the very mention of that demon’s name. She immediately leapt from her chair and went to tell Vegeta the disturbing news.

* * *

“HE’S WHAT?” the Saiyan prince bellowed, angrily punching a drone to the ground. When he lifted his fist, the drone was broken into several small bits – decimating a _nearly_ indestructible piece of equipment.

Bulma, already anticipating this kind of reaction, was several feet away from him as he went on a rampage, nearly shouting energy through the ceiling of the chamber.

Bulma had to quickly send the drones away, otherwise more of them would fall victim to the powerful Saiyan’s rampage. “Initiate away sequence!” she yelled, and the drones responded obediently, taking off and flying into several dozen metal hatches embedded in the room’s walls.

When Bulma sensed a pause in her husband’s furious response, she wasted no time in getting over to where he was currently sprawled out across the tiled floor, picking his upper half up from the ground and holding him, no words uttered from her lips to offer consolation.

They both sat on the ground for several minutes, lost in contemplation.

After his initial response, Bulma felt his fear and apprehension. Then his despair, which settled on a burning rage she had never felt in him before. He didn’t move, only allowed for her to continue to embrace him silently as he glared at the walls.

His pain was next - that was the worst part for her since she couldn’t place what caused it. The bond had its limitations and couldn’t show her that far into his subconscious, and even though it gave her glimpses, they were nothing more than flashes.

The only image she got was one of a purple and white face with a twisted smile, and that sight alone was enough to frighten and cause her to go pale because she understood that it was _him_. Frieza looked like a nightmare, and she realized that after all this time, they were going to have to face him again.

**_It’s okay, Vegeta._** He jumped at her words, but she continued, turning his face gently to get him look into her eyes. **_You are much stronger now than you were back on Namek. You’re different. _**

There was so much anguish in his expression despite what she was telling him that Bulma’s heart broke.

He closed his eyes,**_ I’m praying it will be enough – I fear it isn’t and he’ll- _**he stopped, unable to finish his thought.

**_-And he’ll destroy your planet again, _**she finished for him when he looked away bitterly**_ Well I say he won’t. Listen, we’ll get through our ceremony, honeymoon on the ship and head straight for Vegetasei. No delays – we’ll save your planet, my beloved Prince Vegeta. And this time, you’re not going to be alone, you’ll have more help than you’ll know what to do with, _**she finished, sending him as much encouragement as she could manage.

He looked back at her and he saw the determined grin that had spread across her lips. There was that human emotion again, something he realized in moments like this were decidedly endearing. She felt so confident in his abilities that she was smiling at him despite her fears and he couldn’t help but cross the gap between them and pull her in for a searing kiss.

“I’m so glad you didn’t meet me back then,” he confessed, mummering into her skin as he kissed along her jawline.

“I’m sure you would have probably killed me – I have a pretty big mouth,” she replied, smiling wryly as he continued his assault.

"But it can be so sweet," he said as he made his way back up to claim her lips. He paused and held her eye contact, "We might die, Bulma. I don't want to endanger us by giving you a false sense of security. "

"I know…we probably won't though," she countered, stroking his cheek.

He grabbed her hand, keeping it on his face as he stared intensely into her eyes. Bulma felt the power of his gaze and shuddered.

"I'm serious, we might not make it out alive, and our son-"

"Shh," she silenced him with a kiss, "No more. We will be fine. Just trust yourself. This – us being together proves that the unimaginable can happen, right?" she finished by placing his hand on her belly and offering him a warm smile despite their exchange of troubled thoughts.

"Well, yes, I suppose-"

She kissed him again, "Everything is being set right – right now - before your very eyes. We were _so_ wrong for each other. But now, it's never been more perfect. So embrace that with me and try to think positively. Until things actually start happening – no more doom and gloom. Alright? If I can do that with everything on my plate right now, then I need you to do it too. I need you," she finished, resting her forehead on his.

Vegeta sighed heavily, and then pulled her close to him, "Sure. We'll see what transpires. Thank you…for being here for me," he added the last sentence with noticeable effort.

She smiled for reassurance and they relished in their moment for as long as they could before responsibility beckoned them once again.


	24. White Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be hot and steamy...for obvious reasons.

The air had long since filled with a crisp, cool feeling as October prepared to leave Japan. It was the 30th of the month, setting the official anniversary day on which Vegeta and Bulma would be publicly married, and it was heavily anticipated as the media speculated the location, décor, and dress for the billionaire heiress and her mysterious fiancé.

It wasn’t a secret that neither of them were wanting to have this ceremony right now, Bulma wishing for more time to prepare, and Vegeta hating just about everything that had to do with humans and their culture’s customs. He thought Saiyans made a big deal, but kai, was he wrong.

He huffed through his tux fitting, held his tongue during the depravity of his bachelor party, and almost lost it when Bulma decided it would make their wedding night ‘more intimate’ if they slept apart the night before. He wanted at least a sliver of normalcy, but when her tired, stress-filled eyes gave him a glare for even slightly suggesting something in opposition, he would just tightly shut his eyes and remind himself that this was his one courtesy that he would offer her. The chance of having a normal human ceremony, for there would never be another one for her. She told him in jest about the thing called ‘divorce’, and he scoffed when she explained it to him, because she would never be able to have one of those.

The unique attribute about being in a Saiyan bond is that you are bonded until you die. Sure, she could have a human equivalence of a severance if she wanted to, but the bond would never let her betray him. The beauty of the ‘until death do you part’ portion of a Saiyan vow is that there isn’t one. You are with your mate even into the afterlife, wherever that ends up being. That’s why instincts play a big part in choosing your mate – you’re never worried about being wrong. There’s no fickle will you- won’t you in Saiyan culture – that’s how he knew Bulma was the one. She was human at the time, and he was Saiyan, but she was fated to be his mate.

Vegeta took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he walked up the aisle of the church. He glared fiercely as he passed the back rows of camera-toting paparazzi. They were practically foaming at the mouth while they snapped several pictures of the Saiyan in his finely tailored Versace suit. He ignored every comment they made about his ‘god-like’ appearance and lack of a smile, making his way dutifully to the front of the room, stopping at the altar as calmly as he could, almost forgetting the room full of _other_ humans he hardly knew, including Bulma’s family and friends, Kakarot and his clan, to which Vegeta sent an especially nasty glare to when his adversary gave him that big, goofy grin and wished him luck.

Vegeta knew better than to incite violence on this day. He had noticed the other Earth warriors were there alongside Kakarot but to his amusement, the weakling, Yamcha, was absent.

Vegeta smirked to himself at the thought that somewhere, that idiot was trying to pound his fists into something to forget about what was transpiring today, and it gave the prince sudden joy – which was immediately dashed when he saw that same idiot clambering down the aisle, finding a seat next to the Namekian and fixing his ruffled tuxedo jacket. Yamcha looked up at Vegeta and smirked at him as if he could read Vegeta’s thoughts.

The Saiyan rolled his eyes, ignoring the entire second row now and turned his nose up, trying to focus on what he was there for. Any moment now, his mate would be walked down the aisle to officially be given to him in front of the whole world, and he was more than ready to get this over with.

* * *

This was it.

All the hard work Bulma and her mother put into making this ceremony happen - all in the matter of a few weeks. Her mother helped her pick out a stunning dress that would hide her pregnancy and her new tail, sliming her easily and when Bulma looked in the mirror of her bridal suite, Panchy caught a tear as it threatened to fall down her daughter’s cheek.

Bulma looked absolutely stunning. But also scared as hell. It all felt so sudden to her – so rushed.

“Mom, I want to enjoy this, but with everything that still has to happen – I can’t even properly enjoy my wedding day. It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just-“

“Honey, all the work for this is done! All you have to do is walk with your father down the aisle, smile for a couple cameras, and meet Vegeta at the altar!” Panchy said, her smile never leaving her face, “And honey, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you. You’re going to take his breath away,” Panchy added with a sigh.

Bulma’s pulse quickened at that. He was the only one in the room she truly wanted to be with right now, and she was going to be able to in approximately five minutes. But her mother’s words had her as nervous as ever. Vegeta was waiting for her, she could feel him yards away and she was trying her hardest not to show him her fear at their public profession of matrimony.

Kai, she hated crowds.

Her mother had perfected every curl in her hair, checked her makeup again for any spots the artists might have missed and, after assuring her daughter she looked perfect, lifted her vail and placed it over her face.

She took her daughter’s left hand, glancing at her late mother’s ring and smiled the biggest smile she could manage through the tears in her eyes.

“Oh honey, you’re ready. I’ll be out there in the front row, beaming as bright as I can and trying to hold in these silly tears. I can’t wait to watch my daughter get married to such a sweet man,” she exclaimed brightly.

Bulma was so nervous. She was already married to him, but the ordeal of having the ceremony made it more official, since she was still used to human customs. She shook her hands out to hopefully loosen the nerves she felt. She then took deep breaths as she tried to settle her heart, and that worked to some degree. She collected her thoughts and as she walked to face the doors that led to the main hall, she straightened her dress and after adjusting her shoulders, she stood up straight and nodded to her mother to open the doors.

_Alright, I’m ready._

* * *

Vegeta hated the flowers that decorated just about every inch of the large cathedral. He hated all the attention he got from Bulma’s relatives that all grabbed and gushed at him for anything they could point out or reach on him. He especially hated having to invite Kakarot and his kin, all because they were some of Bulma’s closet friends. He hated all the walking and dance practicing he was forced to do. He didn’t think there was any reason he needed to be so focused on coordination, especially with eating. Why did he need a rehearsal dinner anyway? He’s eaten dinners all his life. He didn’t want to have to dance in front of such a large crowd of people, adding to the charade that was this whole circus show. It was all so over the top to him. Even for a prince, who was at least familiar with these kinds of important events. He was only 6 when everything went to hell on his planet, but he had been to several ceremonies and none had ever been this…flamboyant.

But when he watched Bulma make her way through the large doors and into the aisle, and the way she looked in that long, gossamer, white dress… it was as if he fell to Earth all over again. The air in the room was stolen from him, and he felt as though he was meeting with the very angel that was going to usher him into the afterlife.

“Bulma,” Vegeta whispered softly, as if it was a prayer.

She heard his call even over their great distance and bowed her head to him shyly, smiling under the cover of her vail as the processional began and her father gently took hold of the crook in her arm.

Snaps of pictures were loud in the great hall as the media and hired photographers took photos of the moment, but Bulma drowned it all out as she looked at him, his black flame of hair complimented by the dark suit he stood in, and it was such a stark contrast from his typical attire, she couldn’t help but marvel at how well he wore Earth attire.

Vegeta looked as calm as ever, hands clasped in front of him as he continued to watch his bride make her way down to meet him. But that was on the outside.

Inside – Vegeta was losing his cool rapidly. He was growing tired of all the eyes on them, wanting nothing more than to take his wife and toss the rest of the ceremony out the stained-glass window. But he persisted. For _her_.

Before he knew it, Bulma had made it to him at the front of the room, Chaps taking her hands and giving them to the Saiyan prince to hold with a smile, then backing away and finding his seat next to Panchy.

Vegeta had seen many devastating battles in his life. He’d seen and even done things that would cause his blushing bride to run away screaming from him, hiding from him in terror. But as she looked up at him through those long, dark lashes, and demurely blushed at him from under her transparent covering, he was glad she was holding onto him because he felt he might actually faint.

He cleared his throat and mentally scolded himself. _Get a grip. Focus on saying your vow._

After preparing himself, he kept his eyes on his wife, and she continued smiling back at him, trying not to gape at his own appearance.

To say he was gorgeous was an understatement. Her prince owned every bit of his namesake with his formal presentation, looking in every way as regal and elegant as if he were in royal Saiyan armor.

Vegeta remembered when they rehearsed for the groom to lift her veil and he quickly did so, uncovering her face and he was so overwhelmed with her appearance that he froze up, staring at her in awe.

** _You are the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. It’s official. _ **

Bulma blushed, smiling wider than before, if that was possible.

**_Well, I am marrying a handsome prince. It’s only appropriate we match_**, she replied, winking at him physically.

Vegeta did something that Bulma would have forever etched in her brain – he smiled a genuine smile. Not a smirk, or prideful sneer – but a genuine smile. And she would have swooned had it not been for his hands holding onto hers.

**_Now why don’t you smile more often? It…suits you_**, she told him, taking a deep inhale.

** _Savor the moment, mate – other than you, I haven’t found anything on this planet that brings me enough to joy to express it._ **

She blushed again and that’s when she panicked.

**_Oh man, where is the priest at in the vows??_** searching worriedly in his eyes for an answer.

His smile lifted to a smirk now, not at all surprised at her.**_ Don’t forget to say, “I do” silly woman, _**he teased.

The priest held the small cushion with their wedding bands out for the couple as he began the last of their vows that they had almost missed because they were too busy wrapped up in their bond to care.

“Do you, Vegeta, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he stated simply, still smirking at Bulma for sighing in relief at not missing her part of the vows.

“And do you, Bulma Olivia Briefs, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?” the priest asked.

“I do,” she smiled lovingly, looking directly at Vegeta and giving him her full attention.

They both took opposite rings from the priest and placed them identically on the other’s left hand.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, you may now kiss the bride,” the priest said with a smile as the couple shared their small but passionate kiss.

* * *

The next few hours were spent impatiently waiting for the moment the couple could finally step away and share their wedding night together, where Bulma could officially seal their connection by giving her spouse his matching mark and have a complete Saiyan bond. As soon as she bit him, there would be absolute unity and the bond would strengthen ten-fold.

Vegeta idly wondered what that would be like as he shared the second dance with his wife, after she was passed to him by her father from her father-daughter dance.

She would have an unobstructed view of the memories that were deeply protected at his core, images, flashbacks – the whole deal. Would she be able to handle it?

**_Of course, I will. We’ve come this far, haven’t we? _**Bulma reassured him, hearing him accidently slip thoughts to her mentally, giving him a heartbreakingly beautiful smile, one that was so easy, he felt tempted to smile back. But thoughts weighed heavily on his mind, and he was steadily losing his patience, especially since they had already eaten, sharing their wedding cake and course after course of catered meals. He was at his limit – he wanted her now.

Vegeta went to grab himself a cup of ice water from the table, taking a break from frivolity to think on the night's latter events. Yamcha, doing some drinking of his own, thought that this would now be a great time to engage the newly wedded prince in serious conversation.

“Vegeta – can I say something to you?” Yamcha called from over at the table he shared with the other fighters.

_Oh, just perfect,_ Vegeta thought with irritation as the weak warrior got up and jogged over to him.

“What is it, _Yamcha_?” he asked, saying his name with venom.

“I just wanted to congratulate you – you’ve come such a far way off from the Saiyan we met. It’s crazy,” Yamcha stated.

“It sounds like there is a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Vegeta deduced suspiciously, cocking an eyebrow.

Yamcha cleared his throat, “I’m glad you’ve changed, and Bulma seems happy with you. But that doesn’t change who you are – you’re still dangerous, and if you so much as hurt her-“

“Oh, I know your brain isn’t slacking so much that it’s allowing you to actually _threaten_ me…?” Vegeta warned in a low growl.

“We’ll be here to protect Bulma if you fall short, Vegeta. That’s all I wanna say,” the wolf warrior vowed.

“Mark me, you pathetic, worthless ingrate. I might tolerate you, but if I had _my_ way, you would have died the very day I shot you out of the sky when you kidnapped _my _wife. There will be no ‘falling short’. She will never be yours - ever again. She is my wife, mate, and mother to my heir – if you ever come against me with that kind of intimidation again – I’ll make sure Bulma isn’t around to stop me from incinerating your carcass and tossing your ashes into the wind. A Saiyan _always_ protects his mate – always,” as Vegeta finished his words, he realized his face was hot. He realized needed to calm down or he might cause a scene.

Yamcha was looking at the Saiyan apprehensively. The man could feel the Saiyan’s anger, and it was best not to push him further. Yamcha realized he had consumed one too many glasses of champagne and after sharing a glare with the prince, Yamcha went to sit back down next to Tien and Piccolo.

Vegeta rolled his eyes angrily, feeling well past put-out with this ceremony and sought for his wife. He located her and said nothing as he picked her up in her big, flowy gown and began to carry her off the floor, walking briskly through the double doors of the reception hall, even as friends and family were calling their names.

“Wha-wait! We have to thank them and tell them all goodbye! Vegeta!” Bulma exclaimed, not excited about being thrown over the shoulder of what appeared to be a very eager Saiyan husband.

Vegeta wasn’t having any of her pleas; silently walking her out into the chilly autumn night.

“It’s freezing! You could have at least let me grab a coat! Jeez,” she groused, holding her arms as she tried to keep warm.

“Yes, well you and your – I’m sorry _our_ family coerced me into participating in this wedding charade, all to prove the validity of our relationship to a planet full of humans whose opinions don’t matter to me . I endured hours of discomfort, I think you can tolerate 10 minutes of it while I fly us home.”

“You know what, you’re an asshole but at least you make a good argument. Good for you - I’m still cold,” she complained.

He set her down and took off his suit top, promptly setting it on her shoulders.

“There. Write them letters of your gratitude. We’re going home, I’m tired of waiting,” he told her and picked her back up, making his way in the direction of his destination. He took off from the ground and they were now in the air, flying back home to the quiet seclusion of the Capsule Corp property. He had his own surprise waiting for her in the GR.

“You know, I’m glad you’re so open to sharing our family. It amazes me – A prince from an alien race, considering my dad his father-in-law…that’s mind-boggling,” Bulma mused.

“I consider it a matter of respect – I’m growing comfortable here, I might as well get used to human customs – even if I don’t like them. Much like how you will have to assimilate on my planet. Although I’m going to say this right now – I have it easy compared to how you will have it – you can’t just call my father ‘_dad_’. He’s the king of our race and it will be a miracle to get my people to accept you. My sympathies ahead of time…this isn’t going to be easy,” he told her solemnly.

She looked up at him, biting her lip, finding the thoughts of future events to be harder and harder to fathom, “I’m going to have to work at it, aren’t I?”

Vegeta looked into her eyes with intensity and gave her a firm nod.

She was clinging tightly to his shirt, now trying to keep her face out of the cold wind by burying herself deeply into his chest. She felt safe in his arms, and now that he put an abrupt end to their wedding festivities for the day, she was looking forward to getting home and sharing the night with her husband.

* * *

“The Gravity Room…why are we here?” she asked as they touched back down in the yard, not feeling enthused about sharing such a romantic occasion in the room they work out in. He ignored her and opened the large metal door to reveal what he had put together inside.

“Don’t give me all the credit, it was partly your parent’s idea.”

With the help of her augmented reality, the room was filled with lush trees, complete with hanging vines and the sounds of a far-off waterfall. Tropical birds flew over their head for further atmospheric effect. Bulma stood wide-eyed in her wedding dress, as she was still mesmerized by the technology that made this possible. She felt the humid air and smelled the sweet fragrance of wild orchids like they were really there in the middle of a rainforest, untouched by human hands.

In the middle of the simulated Amazonia was a large, king size bed, a huge, white down comforter covering the mattress and falling the canopy floor that was covered in rose petals.

“I told Panchy that the rose petals didn’t make sense in the rainforest but she insisted on-“

He was cut off when Bulma pulled him into her arms, passionately delivering a scalding kiss, causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the ground, taking her with him as she peppered him with chaste kisses.

“I. Love. It!” she said through her kisses and he smiled, accepting her affection fervently as he reached for the pins in her hair to release her curls from their tight confinement. Her azure mane fell around her shoulders and curtained her face, covering one of her eyes as she smiled coquettishly. Her blue hair and pale skin made her a perfect fit in this tropical setting, for the jungle was as exotic as she was. He had never laid eyes on another being like her before, and it thrilled him that such a beautiful creature was all his, now in both Saiyan and Human context. She was perfection, and the only thing that would complete her appearance was the long white dress off her body and on the ground.

He pulled at the fabric around her chest, ready to rip her free from the material, but she stopped him.

“I want to save this dress, silly. I can’t have you ripping it to shreds! Find the zipper,” she said, gesturing to her back. He growled and did as she directed, finding the zipper and, as gently as his anticipation would allow, he pulled it down her slender back…revealing yet another layer of white fabric, much to his frustration.

“What is this covering for?” he scowled, irritated he still had to wait until she was revealed to him completely. They hadn’t had sex since her transformation a month ago to ensure she would be okay and he was **starved.**

“It’s lingerie – it’s supposed to be sexy,” she replied, feeling a little disappointed that he sounded unimpressed.

“It would look sexier on the ground – get it off, I don’t need to peel layers off my mate. Besides, I’m already transfixed with what’s underneath,” he told her and after grabbing her and inhaling the delicate skin at her neck, he began leaving open-mouthed kisses on his mark, then in one pull, he managed to completely rip the garment from her torso, causing Bulma to gasp in shock.

“Hey!” she yelped.

“You weren’t moving fast enough,” he smirked, picking her up and throwing her onto the bed and she landed with a bounce.

He stalked towards her like she was his prey, watching her spread herself open to him to further tempt him to pounce on her, but now that he had her naked and waiting, he went at his own pace, wanting to savor every moment before the night was over. He wanted her to be well and truly fucked, reeking of his scent so that when they made it to Vegetasei, not a soul would question who she was to him.

“What happened to being impatient?” she taunted.

“Believe me, woman. I want to fuck you so hard right now, you won’t be able to leave that bed for days. I’m still clothed, am I not?” he said, gesturing down to his attire. He began unbuttoning his shirt slowly, turning the game he was playing on its head, as he wanted her to beg for it just as much as he wanted to give it to her.

Her eyes glazed over with lust as she watched him strip himself of his undershirt, then his pants, leaving his underwear on as the last item to remove. Growing in her own impatience, she lunged forward, gripping the waistband of his boxer briefs and sliding them down quickly to join the growing pool of clothes. When she came back up, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him in to capture his lips.

“See how it feels?” he teased as he backs them up to the bed, making her legs hit the mattress and as she fell backwards, he went right over with her. She felt his length between their naked bodies and wanted nothing more than to bury him inside her, finally ridding herself of the ache their foreplay was creating.

They slid their way to the top of the bed, kissing and sucking their way over each other’s skin as they went. Officially out of patience and ability to restrain his desire, Vegeta raised himself slightly to place his hand at her entrance, finding she was more than ready. He inserted his erection into her slowly, kissing her deeply as he seated himself in her depths completely. She moaned his name carnally, biting into his right shoulder as she adjusted to his girth. He began setting a pace within her that had her holding on for dear life, giving way to her many moans and screams, all swallowed and silenced by Vegeta’s hungry lips. Without warning, he flipped them over, Bulma now on top and Vegeta pulling her face to his for another scorching kiss, dipping his tongue in past her lips and tangling with hers. When she realized he still wasn’t moving his lower half, she pulled back with a questioning expression.

He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“This is the only act of willing submission you will be getting from me tonight, so enjoy it while it lasts,” he told her, laying his head down on the sheets. She rested above him for a moment, still full of him between her thighs.

Her heart still beat wildly in her chest as she appraised her husband in silence, taking in his form.

The powerful and mighty Saiyan prince was offering himself to her, laying his head to the side in submission so that she could give him her mark, matching the one he had previously given her several months prior. This act of surrendering had her motionless –she couldn’t believe he was allowing his body to be branded by her mouth in such a way.

But this was what needed to be done.

She needed to complete their bond if they wanted to experience what it meant to be a pure Saiyan mated pair. As she hesitated, lost in the moment and her thoughts, Vegeta pulled her closer to him, putting her face right at his neck.

“What are you waiting for?” she heard him ask.

“Do it, Bulma.”


	25. No Better Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “This is the only act of willing submission you will be getting from me tonight, so enjoy it while it lasts,” he told her, laying his head down on the sheets. She rested above him for a moment, still full of him between her thighs. 
> 
> Her heart still beat wildly in her chest as she appraised her husband in silence, taking in his form.
> 
> The powerful and mighty Saiyan prince was offering himself to her, laying his head to the side in submission so that she could give him her mark, matching the one he had previously given her several months prior. This act of surrendering had her motionless –she couldn’t believe he was allowing his body to be branded by her mouth in such a way.
> 
> But this was what needed to be done. 
> 
> She needed to complete their bond if they wanted to experience what it meant to be a pure Saiyan mated pair. As she hesitated, lost in the moment and her thoughts, Vegeta pulled her closer to him, putting her face right at his neck.
> 
> “What are you waiting for?” she heard him ask.
> 
> “Do it, Bulma.”

She inhaled, steeling herself against the task of completing their bond and realizing the weight of it made her quite heavy. What would they feel on the other side of this connection?

“What are you waiting for?” Vegeta asked gruffly. Bulma felt him straining beneath her, and she could tell he was holding himself back from thrusting into her with growing impatience.

She closed the distance between them, giving his neck a tender kiss and he let out a quiet groan when she sucked at the skin there. She wasn’t sure if this would hurt him like it did briefly for her since she was stronger now, but she wanted it to feel good before she sank her teeth in to his flesh.

Her ministrations finally caused his patience to wane as he thrust up into her and she did her best to hold onto his neck all while moaning deeply from the back of her throat, embracing every sensation that came from the pit of her stomach.

His thrusts became more erratic as Bulma at last bit down, hard and strong into his neck. Her moans became a song to him and he had no warning, no chance to ready himself for her.

All of Bulma’s essence flooded into Vegeta like a final dam breaking, giving way to her innermost thoughts and dreams. He finally had an unobstructed view of what made her so caring, so intelligent. The love of her father, guiding her and helping stoke the fire that was her ambition, her insatiable curiosity. The love of her mother, giving her encouragement to reach out and touch greatness, for anything was possible in her mother’s eyes. Memories flashed before him as she remembered her first science fair, to her first award as a college graduate at 16. This was her own pride, he acknowledged. The flood continued as he felt the love of her friends, which had given her a taste for adventure, willing her to be ready for more, whatever life brought to them, be it android or alien.

As Bulma laved the fresh wound she made in his flesh, she felt _his _overwhelming sensations as well - except from him, it was tenfold.

It was wild and barbaric, but she realized this was Vegeta - this was a lot like what he was under the surface, ferociously defending his pride and honor. He had so much feeling built up inside of him from years and years of containment, it nearly took her over, possessing her body as a willing vessel for his penitence.

She felt the pride for his heritage, the love for his mother, who had always been there for him when his father pushed a little too hard. This was to be cut short for him though, as he was stolen away from his home and this made way for his deep resentment for his past mistakes, then to his renewed hopes for the future, brought to life by her, as an image of her smiling face filled Bulma’s mind.

This was the most prominent sensation felt by him, and it was pulling tears from her eyes and down her cheeks as she rode this onslaught of what was his emotions, thoughts, and dreams. She learned that he had once dreamed to follow in his father’s footsteps and become the next king of Vegetasei, her prince looking every bit as regal as his namesake in a long, elaborate red robe and blue and alabaster Saiyan armor . This vision quickly shifted and she watched him lift shackled wrists as Frieza watched, lips twisted in a chilling grin. Then she witnessed as Vegeta stood, ripping furiously at bars of a cell until a bright blast exploded from his hand, releasing him from his confinement. She knew this was from his time under Frieza’s control. She had no idea how deep the bond would venture into his subconscious, but the backdrop was auburn and ebony, flashing in her mind as she watched him passionately yell into the ether, wild flame of hair turning from pitch black to bright blonde, signifying his glorious transformation into the legendary Super Saiyan. 

All of his fears, all of her hopes, mingled into one continuous melody and they were harmonious in their heartfelt songs to one another. The emotions they were feeling weren’t comparable to love and adoration. Bulma understood why he didn’t tell her he loved her; the word was so shallow in its attempt to describe what they were feeling right now, it would be a disservice. There was no describing the sensation of warm, joyous adornment as it engulfed their mortal senses. There was no human word to explain the raw emotions they were experiencing.

The affection Vegeta harbored in his heart for her stole all remaining breath from her lungs as she came for him - so hard she saw stars behind her eyelids. She gasped so loudly in the large space of the augmented chamber, it sent the timid artificial birds perched above them in the trees flying out and into the virtual sky.

The experience had affected her so greatly that she couldn’t recall when Vegeta had shifted to be the one on top, still riding her body as he found his way to ecstasy.

He in return was choking in her depths; her all-encompassing love and joy for him alone was too much for him to bear. He felt too tarnished - too broken to deserve this kind of passion, yet, here she was, embracing him and the ritual of the bond enthusiastically, withholding nothing from him. He felt for once in his life decidedly unworthy and undeserving of all that she felt for him.

While Bulma felt his shame and wretchedness, Vegeta felt her heart break for him in return, feeling her kissing the tears that escaped from the corners of his eyes briefly as his control shattered and a guttural moan escaped his lips.

He was drowning in her now.

The depths too deep, her devotion to him so fierce and strong.

He followed immediately after this, being milked for everything he was worth by the heaven he found between her thighs. He kissed her lips as they came down from their respective highs, and he continued to kiss her, silently testing the bond with his gentle thoughts.

**Now you can understand how deeply I feel for you. Now you know why the word ‘love’ doesn’t pass my lips. **

Bulma gasped at how clear those words were - it was like he said them out loud. Before she completed their bond, it would sound barely audible; just above a whisper. But now his inner voice was as clear as the dawn.

She pulled back and stared into his eyes, Vegeta raising his hand to stroke her cheek with an admirable gentleness.

**It’s so overwhelming. What are we going to do, ranmali? I know for a fact we can’t go around our family feeling like this. We’ll never hear the end of it, **Bulma told him and felt the prince quietly chuckle as he continued to kiss her, pulling her in even tighter and taking her bottom lip and sucking lightly before dipping his tongue in to explore her for the hundredth time that night.

She kissed him back just as fervently. He flipped them over again to have her on top of him so she could rest on his chest for the moment.

**I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, **Vegeta uttered to her, a hint of conspiracy in his inner voice.** Neither one of us is leaving this bed until we feel ready to. That could be a while, are you ready for that?**

She continued to run her tongue over his lips, tasting, committing the feeling to memory.

**There’s food in the GR, but the bathroom is still a necessity. And we can’t spend too long here, since we still have that trip to your planet to make…,** she thought and gave a small giggle as he ran a hand down and reached for her tail.

**I am still blissfully wrapped up in our wedding night, we can let the reality of responsibility set in tomorrow…or the day after…,** he practically purred in her mind. She was physically affected by this by shuddering at the sultry timbre of his inner voice.

**Do you feel officially married now? **She asked idly, fingers brushing over his chiseled chest.

He stroked the soft fur that met at her back, and she nearly buckled with pleasure. She moaned his name out loud. She couldn’t help herself. She mounted him and began rocking her hips to satisfy her renewed cravings for him that she knew since their first coupling would never be fully sated.

He willingly obliged, already inside her as they helped each other find bliss once more.

**So much more than that, radashei. Marriage is such a shallow concept when compared to Saiyan mating, and with me being a powerful elite makes our bond that much more potent, **he answered.

**Oh, really - cocky much? **she challenged, grinning down at him.

He bucked up into her almost sending her over the edge in one swift movement, she let out a scream as he did it again.

**Yes, I do believe I am, **he smirked, and she let out a laugh that quickly turned into moans as they indulged themselves in another lovemaking session.

Bulma quickly sent a word of gratitude into the cosmos for the moments she was able to share with this incredible man beneath her -

To think, all it took for this to transpire was a wish…and a tail.

~End of part one~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to officially call this the end of part one of three parts I'm planning for this story. It's quickly turned into a novel, and I have a ways to go. 
> 
> This section is inspired by one of my favorite fanfictions, Endlessly by Froglady15. They did an excellent job handling the bond element, and I figured there wasn't really a better way of describing such a strong relationship...so I went the same route. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this first bit while they're still on Earth, because Part two will be almost completely focused on Vegetasei. If you don't care for worldbuilding and me moving away from the canon stuff, I get it. So come back to this story for part three. But I'm about to enrich the Saiyan planet with my own creative spin on what could happen if the planet returned, so stick around for that if you want to see what I write. I've got some great plans and I can't wait to finally share them with you all. Thanks for being here through this first part, I appreciate every follow and every kudo.


	26. Be Ready, Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Just giving a little preview of what's to come...

_~Dream sequence: Approximately 2 years prior, on Namek~_

* * *

“Filthy monkey, you’re not leaving this planet alive,” Frieza says as he extends a finger to Goku’s forehead.

The Saiyan doesn’t even flinch.

“Goku – look out!” Krillin shouts as the first blast is shot from the end of Frieza’s finger. Goku deflects the shot, a glare still transfixed on his face.

“Insolent fool, “ Frieza mutters before releasing a full-on barrage of red-tinted blasts of ki in Goku’s direction.

When he was finished, Frieza expressed his amusement with a self-satisfied chuckle. But as the smoke of his attack settled and the battlefield is once again filled with silence, Frieza is greeted with his Saiyan opponent, still glaring at the lizard emperor completely unscathed.

When Frieza’s face shifted from satisfaction to a scowl, Vegeta chimed in with his own labored chortle from his place on the ground. This had been where Frieza had at last laid the prince out flat on his back and the mighty Saiyan Prince was succumbing to his injuries – but he wasn’t going out without his final scathing sentiments - not while he still had breath in his body and could feel the warmth of Saiyan blood flowing through his veins.

“Who would’ve thought – a lowly soldier like you, Kakarot…I commend you,” Vegeta said to Kakarot, giving him an ounce of admonishment. “Just a little advice, Frieza – you’re not gonna want to hold anything back…not from this one. You see, he is what you fear more than anything in the universe – you’re dealing with a real Super Saiyan, “ Vegeta lamented with a cough.

Frieza’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Yes, you heard me – the legendary warrior, even mightier than you. He stands before you now – just wait, you’re finally about to get a taste of true fear…one that you’ve long deserved.”

Frieza quickly extended a finger, intent set on silencing the proud Saiyan Prince once and for all.

_This is it, this is the part where I die,_ Vegeta thought as he saw the bright beam of light flash from behind closed eyelids.

“Bulma, no!” he heard Kakarot shout and before Vegeta could open his eyes again, he felt two arms wrap around his chest, holding him in a firm embrace. Vegeta felt the impact of Frieza’s attack but not the pain as the shock and the presence of someone on top of him stole his focus. He heard a small cough above him and when he managed to lift his eyelids, he was greeted with his woman’s beautiful but pain-stricken face.

“Bulma?” he stammered, awestruck that she was even here with him in one of his many night terrors.

“Hi,” she replied weakly, giving him the saddest smile he had ever seen.

Vegeta was still confused as to how she could join him here in this torturous memory but, in his daze, he strained to reach out and caress her bloody cheek.

She grabbed his hand before he could touch her.

“I-I’m so-sorry…I couldn’t stand aside and let him…just kill you – I p-panicked,” she stuttered as blood dripped from her lips and pooled on his chest.

“No, no, NO! Bulma!!” Vegeta screamed, now frantically trying to sit up, vaguely registering Frieza’s laughter and Kakarot’s battle cry as the Saiyan charged forward to challenge the scaly emperor’s power.

He knew this was a memory, but it all felt so real – so vivid, he couldn’t help but feel genuine fear while he witnessed her blood running down her face.

“We know that-that G-Goku’s got this, calm down and wake up, Vegeta,” she told him as he continued to freak out. She was holding him tightly, but her arms were losing their grip around his body.

“B-Bulma – no, you -you’re dying! I-“

“Shh, Vegeta. I love you. I’m right here, just wake up.”

“Oh, yes. My favorite monkey pet – do wake up – I am growing impatient as I wait for your triumphant return to this planet…hurry home, dear prince.” Frieza set his gaze to Vegeta before refocusing his smirking face on his former Saiyan opponent.

Vegeta froze at those final words and as the implications dawned on his conscious self, his mind was waking, pulling him further into the abyss as his terror and lucidity evaporated into dust.

The nightmare completely faded as he bolted upwards in bed, choking down air as Bulma’s physical body remained in place on his chest.

Gone was the previous visage of alluring augmentation in the large chamber; its lush and vibrant green jungle now replaced with somber darkness and began to feel vacuous as Vegeta did his best to not to give in to the crushing feelings of loneliness and fear that he had harbored in the past.

He pushed her off him as gently as he could, still trying to calm himself down from the powerlessness he felt in his memory. She remained close by, watching him recover.

“Why did you do that?” he finally asked after catching his breath.

“I-I heard you, it sounded like you were in trouble. You were yelling, and - you’ve done it before… so, I’m used to it, but this time I wanted to help, so I willed it.”

“You willed yourself into my dream? And you could do…_that_? He said, recalling how real she felt when she was on top of him.

“Surprise, I guess?” Bulma offered lamely.

“Frieza – that’s never happened before…” Vegeta uttered, recalling the last moments of the dream.

“Oh please. Let that lizard spook us and try to get inside your head. I get it – he’s powerful. But we’ll be ready, honey. I’m not afraid of him, and neither should you be. Right?” Bulma offered with a small smile.

He grunted and looked away, not sure what to think about her sentiment for the time being, since she had never actually met Frieza and seen what he was capable of. But…they weren’t on Vegetasei yet, the fear could wait until the final encounter would take place and he would once again meet his old adversary face to face.

“How do you feel?” he asked her, checking her body for anything that could have carried over from the dream. This was all still new to him, so he had no idea how the bond would affect them.

He was relieved when he saw no physical damage on her skin. Where there was once a hole in her chest, there was now clean, naked flesh as the couple had slept unobstructed with nothing but the sheets to cover them, which now resided on the floor by the bed.

“I feel…slightly nauseous,” she admitted, and when she did, she put her hand to her mouth, features filling once again with distress. She quickly rose from the bed and ran for the GR bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Vegeta sighed as he heard sounds of retching from inside and made himself get up so he could be useful to her when she stopped vomiting.

He listened for her to pause and made his way inside the smaller room to comfort her. He fished in one of the cabinets for a cloth and wet it in the sink then strode over to lay it across the back of her neck.

She managed to find a stopping point, taking the washcloth from her neck and unfolding it to set it on her face. She coughed a few times before rising to put the cloth in the sink. She pulled out some mouthwash and swished it around in her mouth a couple times before spitting out the liquid.

“Ugh. Lovely way to wake up, isn’t it?” she said wryly to Vegeta as he rested himself patiently against the towel cabinet.

“It will be worth it in the end,” he reassured her uncomfortably.

She snorted. “Easy for you to say. Your body isn’t equipped for this so you’re on emotional support duty,” she said tapping her small but swollen belly.

He smirked. “As if you’d let me try to ‘emotionally support’ you.”

“Ha -You’re right,” she laughed.

He walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. “That usually does the trick though,” Bulma added, smiling at his outward affection for her.

“Hn, does it?” he asked with a husky tone in his voice, kissing from her cheek down to her neck.

“It does,” she whispered playfully. “I know we said this escapade would continue until we were ready to come up for air, but we have work to do before we can enjoy a solid honeymoon,” she told Vegeta, grabbing his growing erection from behind.

“Yes, duty calls, I suppose,” he growled, and Bulma didn’t miss the arousal in his tone or his touch.

He stood behind her at the mirror and, while making deliberate and lustful eye contact with her reflection, entered her from behind, as casual as their conversation.

She cried out in pleasure, uttering his name into her shoulder as she pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts. After several languid pumps, they heard the intercom chime, signaling a message was coming to them from the front desk, and that their fun time was now over.

The couple sighed in unison. Vegeta pulled out, knowing that the moment was now spoiled and he would have to let his woman answer the waiting secretary.

“There are some gentleman here at the front desk waiting to see Mrs. Briefs, I told them you were indisposed, but they insisted on seeing you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever, Maria! I’ll be there soon!” Bulma yelled.

“I mean it, Vegeta. I’ll be getting my honeymoon – properly - when we leave Earth. Got it?” she mentioned to her husband and smirked at him as they made their way out of the small washroom.

He shrugged and matched her attitude with a smirk of his own.

“Be ready, woman.”


	27. Day of Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Here's the promised, long awaited update. I'm sorry it took so long, I've been focused on my Archaeology project and it's taken half a semester to get my brain wrapped around this story again. So enjoy, and hopefully it won't be too long before I post another chapter!

_Present Day, Planet Vegeta_

King Vegeta pounded his fists on the grand war table situated in the center of the palace’s council chamber.

“Frieza is ordering more of his men to station here on Vegetasei in increasing quantities. There was another fleet of ships that docked at the eastern ports just yesterday. Treachery appears to be afoot, I’m afraid that our men might need to pull back from planet conquering and be applied at strategic defense points to ensure the protection of the planet,” the Saiyan king deliberated with quaking frustration.

“Allies, your majesty – we need allies in case we need aid. If Frieza decides to betray us, we can’t afford to think his alliance will be maintained as our armies grow in strength and number. There is rumor he is growing apprehensive of our progress as a race. The more we conquer, the less pleased he appears, I fear…,” Councilman Peppret suggested, furrowing his thick brow.

King Vegeta sank back in his chair, aggravated and anxious with news of emerging threats detailed by his royal council members. Oh, how he missed when the days were simple.

Even early in the alliance with King Cold, before his son Frieza was given the reins, days didn’t feel as tense as they did now. Any moment now - the Saiyan king could feel his power slipping from his grasp as he watched the stout and bloated Cold dignitary command and dictate authority over his people. The proud Saiyan race, bent and fractured under disjointed ruling, struggling to remain loyal to both Frieza and their king. It had King Vegeta agitated and leery, like a cornered beast that was watching every flex and movement of its captor, waiting for the moment of weakness before lashing out.

Another pondering that haunted him was where his son, Prince Vegeta had run off to…he was still a young pup, but so thirsty for his victory in battle, it made King Vegeta almost melancholy to think back on the news he received a fortnight ago, surprised to hear his son had disappeared from the solar system. Where was that boy, and how did he manage to escape the wrath of Frieza for his galivanting amongst the stars? Regardless of his location, the king hoped his son would promptly return to his side and aid in defending his people against the trouble that was bound to rear its ugly head in the coming days. 

“Are you all still mulling over our impending doom?” Bardock interrupted from the back wall of the chamber. King Vegeta sat up in his chair and several members of the council glared at the low-class warrior. Bardock continued, ignoring the elite’s looks of anger and disapproval. “I told you all – Frieza has already won. We’ve been through this already, we all died. I died, you died, the planet…died. What you’re all saying – this has already happened! You need to make a better plan than just the increase in defenses,” Bardock said with intensity. 

“And **_you_** need to keep your mouth shut. I told you we were giving you one more shot – any more of this crazy prophetic talk, Bardock, and you will be sent to planet Vatu in exile,” councilman Zomba threatened.

“Yes, Bardock. I give your skills as a warrior validity, as they suggest you are capable of much more than your rank, but your vision of impending destruction is not why I allowed you to participate in this meeting,” King Vegeta said with clear warning in his voice. He was not going to allow this low-class warrior to suggest Frieza has already betrayed them and to plan a defensive approach would lead to assured defeat.

“You seriously don’t want to believe me? What will it take, your majesty? Will it take Frieza torturing more Saiyan warriors behind closed doors and killing innocent people on whim, throwing their carcasses out into the street when him and his men are through? What about you and the other elites? Will it take a poisoning? Or bold assassination to wake you Saiyans up?” the warrior implored with a loud voice.

“SILENCE! The only thing bold around here is that tongue in your mouth, Bardock! My patience has ended! Get him out of here! You can go back to the barracks and I’m giving your commanding officer orders to ship you off to Vatu at first light!” The King bellowed, not entertaining the Saiyan warrior a moment more. Guards entered the room to follow their king’s command.

But they weren’t alone.

“Oh no, don’t leave on my account,” Frieza purred. He walked in the space casually, as if he were about to stroll about the palace grounds.

“Do sit him down – Bardock seems as if he bears the weight of the world on his very shoulders, I fear if I so much as tap him, he’ll tumble across the floor!” Frieza said with a light chuckle at his joke. The Saiyan guards were now accompanied by Frieza’s men and they pushed Bardock down with great force into the nearest chair.

“There now, that’s better. Now, what’s this I hear about visions of destruction?” Frieza asked idly, taking his own seat across from the king when a councilman hastily jumped to his feet to make that chair available.

No one moved and no one spoke. Every face in the room showed signs of either shock or apprehension.

“You Saiyans, always insisting we do things the hard way,” Frieza sighed.

He shot the king a quick smirk before he gave a nod to his men and the chaos descended.


	28. Tails?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a chapter that furthers the story, but entirely for fun :)

_Kami's Lookout, Present Day_

Piccolo stood with Yamcha as they waited for their other companions to arrive. They were recently given orders from the Galactic Patrol to lead a small platoon to investigate Vegetasei, and the fighters had chosen Dende’s place as a rendezvous point to prepare an action plan.

Both men were quiet when Tien and Chiaotzu touched down on the grounds of Kami’s Lookout.

“Okay, since the Galactic patrolman came to us for this mission, we need to prepare by following their instructions,” Piccolo began.

“Which were…” Yamcha asked, shifting his eyes away to avoid Piccolo’s sudden glare.

“Yamcha – you were there with me, you should know the damn instructions too!” Piccolo growled.

“Dude, just cause I was there, doesn’t mean I was paying attention – I had my phone, man. I was texting a chick…and I was hoping you would be the one to remember,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle.

“Of fucking course,” Piccolo sighed heavily with obvious unspoken anger, knowing his patience was most certainly going to be put to the test today. But regardless of his friend’s shortcomings, they were on a mission and pressed for time, as they needed to get a ship and make it to Vegetasei before the highly volatile ape people get their planet destroyed once again from a force outside their apparent control.

“The patrolman, Jaco, told us we needed to travel to Planet Vegeta and make sure the newly re-instated planet is up to the new Galactic Standard. That means the Saiyans will need to be informed of their status of being among the living once more, and that if they can’t be complicit, they will be destroyed – again. So, our objectives are to report to Bulma to obtain a ship, then travel to Galactic Patrol Headquarters to be further debriefed and given our paperwork and then from there, we’ll work with Vegeta and his people to bring their planet up to current code.”

“Oh my kai,” Tien exclaimed, looking at Piccolo with wide eyes.

“Yeah, what is it?” The Namekian said, rolling his eyes.

“This means…we are the determining factor in whether or not Vegeta’s planet passes inspection - ergo - doesn’t get blown up…holy shit. He’s going to be so pissed, isn’t he?” Tien said incredulously.

Piccolo pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Um – so let’s cross the communicating-with-Vegeta bridge when we fucking get there. Don’t remind me that we still have to do that. Let’s try to explain what we need to his wife first. That will be enough of a headache. Now, we were told to lie low on the planet when we disembark, since this will be sensitive information for such a hostile race.”

“Wow, way to sugarcoat, buddy. _Hostile_ is putting it lightly,” Yamcha smirked.

Piccolo gave an irritated glare.

“Look, Yamcha – if you’re going to start taking shots, I’ll designate **you** to be the one we have tell Vegeta about the status of his planet – then we’ll see if you’re still smirking. Otherwise, keep your stupid comments to yourself. Got it?” Piccolo warned.

“Yeesh, fine. No fun – got it,” Yamcha frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Piccolo cleared his throat and began again, “Right. So any ideas on how we should lay low and blend in?”

The men all looked around at each other, then shrugged at Piccolo.

Piccolo let out a groan. _This was going to be difficult. And irritating, _Piccolo thought. As he closed his eyes in agitation, the fighters began offering one ridiculous idea after the next.  
  


* * *

  
_Capsule Corp Grounds, Present Day_

  
“Alright, you idiots, what do you want?” Bulma said, still miffed about the abrupt ending of her post- wedding morning sex with Vegeta. After grilling her assistant, Maria, on not using the intercom, but the _phone_ when it’s known that the scientist was busy (extracurricular activities needn’t be specified), Bulma stomped over to her lab to deal with her unexpected visitors. When she found out who had requested her presence, her anger softened…but not by much.

Piccolo cleared his throat, “Bulma – I’m not sure if you have been informed yet, but the four of us have been chosen to act as Galactic Patrolman and inspect Planet Vegeta.”

“Pshh…no way. You, Piccolo? Sure - and maybe Tien – but Yamcha? Oh my god, wait ‘till Vegeta finds out…this I gotta tell him,” Bulma smirked and Yamcha gave her the dirtiest look he could muster.

“I’d prefer it if you held off telling him for right now, Bulma. Vegeta might not be able to handle the fate of his planet being decided by a bunch of Earthlings just yet. I want that bomb to be dropped preferably when I’m _off_ the premises if you don’t mind,” Piccolo said crossing his arms uncomfortably.

_So tonight then - awesome,_ Bulma thought, barely concealing a smile.

“So, Bulma. We talked it over with Goku and he thought that this was a great idea-“

“Whoa, whoa – back up – “Goku” and “good idea” in the same sentence?” _This was going to be good,_ Bulma snickered to herself.

“Yes, well, since we need to lay low on the planet and not draw attention to ourselves…we thought it would be smart if we not only kept a low profile – we should blend in.”

“Blend in _how_ exactly?” Bulma asked, genuinely intrigued, dropping the smart-ass attitude for the moment.

“Tails. They want tails, Bulma,” Piccolo huffed in a tone that suggested he wasn’t interested at all in this idea.

Bulma almost snorted. _What the fuck?_

“WHAT? You all can’t be serious – that’s the plan you came up with to scoot about Planet Vegeta and avoid suspicion? No wonder Goku said sure – hah!” she laughed, now thoroughly entertained with images of her friends with stupid fake monkey tails glued to their butts.

“You gave our Saiyans back their tails, isn’t there a way you could recreate something like that for us four?” Tien questioned seriously.

“Yeah, well, you guys are mostly human - and Namekian - your bodies might reject something like real tails,” she said, rationalizing the ridiculous idea.

“Fake tails would be stupid, Bulma,” Yamcha told her, eyes shifting to the blue tail she was sporting around her waist.

“As opposed to what – real ones on fake Saiyans?” Bulma shot right back.

Tien crossed his arms. He knew the tail idea sounded far-fetched at best, but they didn’t really springboard any other ideas after swinging by Goku’s place and asking for his thoughts. The idea still sounded pretty dumb regardless. Piccolo was willing to forego to whole ordeal, since he knew his fellow fighters were going to have a much easier time adapting on the planet than him, who was...a rather large and green sore thumb.

“If I had my way, Bulma, we would just go, sans alterations. But since “blending in” was implicitly expressed by the Galactic Patrol to ensure better chances of survival on the planet, we need that big brain of yours to think of a way to aid us,” Piccolo stated bluntly.

“But dude – Piccolo, you’re green, man. How are we supposed to cover you up?” Yamcha asked, scratching his temple.

“And Bulma is blue! Like, how many blue Saiyans have you seen? Don’t you think she’s going to have a hard time too?” Tien interjected.

Bulma sighed. _Thanks Tien, good point, _she thought, putting her fist on her cheek.

“I don’t know, bro, considering we’ve seen maybe less than half of like, one percent of the Saiyan population…your guess is as good as mine, right?” Yamcha countered.

“Let’s ask Vegeta! I know he’s scary, but he’d obviously know more than any one of us, don’t you think?” Chiaotzu chimed in.

“Um – NO, I’m not doing that,” Yamcha argued, not wanting to bring _him_ into this equation, giving that smug asshole prince more ammunition to humiliate him with.

“Why? You really think he’s gonna fight you over a question?” Tien smirked, knowing this was pressing a big button when it came to Yamcha’s pride.

Before Yamcha could retaliate, Bulma slammed her fists down on her desk.

“Shut up! Holy shit. I have an idea – one that’s better than sticking freaking tails on you guys. I’ll have it ready by Friday. Now get out, you nerds. I’ve now got more work to do,” Bulma said impatiently as she shoved them all out of her lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just trying to hear the characters talk in their voices in the chapter was highly entertaining.


End file.
